


In Your Dreams

by TemperanceNova



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemperanceNova/pseuds/TemperanceNova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can remember that day so clearly. The look of the beautiful woman that stepped out of the taxi with a soft smile that reminded me of my mother. And the look of the boys, twins, as they stepped out behind the woman hand in hand. I remember the look of the twins so vividly, it still hurts."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories Die

    "Alright boys, that's last call! Get your orders in, or get out!"  
    The young woman tending the bar was stern, when she had to be. Mean, because she needed to be. And beautiful, well, because people decided she was. Boasting never settled quite right with her when it came to the subject of her appearance. The fact that she was tall and lean didn't matter. Neither did her silky shoulder length caramel colored hair, or her more green than brown hazel eyes. Not in this place, not in this town...  
    Her looks, as the rumors went, were the reason the old men flocked to her tiny dive bar night after night. Not for the cheap booze and the fact that it was the only place in town that stayed open after nightfall. All of them pushing the fifty mile mark and none of them willing to admit it. But aside from the occasional argument about who'd seen more and who'd survived more, it was quiet. She liked quiet; quiet meant no one was dying. Quiet meant...she was safe.  
    Chasing old men out into the street at four in the morning hadn't been a career choice she saw herself making at any point in her life. It had more or less chosen her. She'd always swore one day she would have a better life. A brighter life. But that dream had died a long, long time ago. Around the time when-  
    "Excuse me," a woman snapped as she fluttered past the young bartender, making her way into an alleyway a few feet from the bar entrance.  
    All she caught was painted red lips, a train of long golden hair, a red coat tail, and black leather high heeled boots. _Eva_. How long had it been since that name popped into her head? How many years had it been since she allowed her mind to wander back that far? Eva...and the twins.  
      
  
 _"I can remember that day so clearly. Remember the look of the neighbors faces as the moving van pulled up to the vacant house. The look of the beautiful woman that stepped out of the taxi with a soft smile that reminded me of my mother. And the look of the boys, twins, as they stepped out behind the woman hand in hand. They didn't seem at all interested in the house, two pair of eyes moving together to stare at me intently as if they somehow knew who I was... I remember the look of the twins so vividly, it still hurts."_  
  
  
 _Playing in the front yard was never one of her favorite things to do, but today, it just seemed like the right place to be. Her father was still half asleep, just coming in off the night shift at his bar, yawning as he rolled the bright red ball back toward her. She knew that he was tired, but at seven years old, she just wanted him to spend a little time with her before he went to bed. Running his fingers through his short chestnut colored hair he smiled over at her fondly as she caught the ball, giggling loudly before she sent it spinning back up the front walkway toward the steps. Up the street she heard the sudden sound of a large truck revving its engine as it turned the corner and she wheeled around to see what was going on. The large moving van drug itself up the street on decrepit looking tires, screeching to a halt three houses down from her front yard and she couldn't help but move to the wooden fence that framed her front yard to see who was moving in._  
 _"Evie? I thought we were playing with the ball?" her father called, but she didn't even turn around to look at him._  
 _"Someone's movin' in, Daddy!" she gasped, excited at the thought of new neighbors. There were no children in the neighborhood her age for her to play with._  
 _"Is that so?" he mumbled, shuffling up behind her, leaning over the fence to peer at the truck. "So there is. Should we walk down and see who it is?"_  
 _She nearly gave herself whiplash looking up at him in sheer excitement, nodding her head roughly as she rushed toward the front gate to wrestle it open. She could hear him chuckling at her as he helped pull the gate open and she nearly spilled out onto the sidewalk. If it were left up to her, she would have ran all the way down the street to catch a glimpse of their new neighbors as soon as possible, but his hand closed around hers to keep her from falling face first on the pavement and forced her to slowly stroll down the street to see the house where the van had parked._  
 _"That's a big truck, hm?" he mused, passing her the ball he still had clutched under his other arm to keep her occupied._  
 _"Do you think they're rich?" she asked, hardly even looking up at her father just in case she missed something._  
 _She could feel her fathers arm shrug at the statement, both of them looking closely at all the items the movers were unloading. Old looking furniture with curvy ends and fancy fabrics. Glass lamps with more color in the shades than a rainbow. It wasn't until they were unloading what looked like the biggest bed she had ever seen, that a yellow taxi pulled up in front of the truck, blocking part of her view of the movers as they twisted the mattress around to figure out the best way to move it through the front door. Once the car had parked a woman stepped out of the passenger side, her long golden hair framing her young face like a veil. Her lips stood out on her pale skin, a glossy pinkish-red color that Evie immediately envied. She was beautiful, with a soft smile that could rival her own mothers. All around them Evie could see the other neighbors emerging from their houses to see what was going on, or rather, who was moving in. All of them gawking at the woman just as much as Evie herself. Following right after her were two short figures, tufts of pure white the only thing that was visible over the car door._  
 _As the taxi pulled away it revealed the two figures, two boys, both the exact same height with snow white hair holding hands behind the woman. Evie found herself tilting her head to try and understand exactly what she was seeing. Children, with white hair? Wasn’t white hair for grandpas? Both boys seemed uninterested in the house, turning around to look at anything other than the house. Two pairs of blue eyes moving as one stopped once they spotted her. They looked exactly the same except for their clothing and she knew immediately that they were twins. The boy on the left was dressed in jeans and a red polo. The boy on the right wearing khakis and a blue t-shirt. There was something in their gaze that left her feeling numb, a sense of familiarity that both scared and excited her. She had the uncontrollable urge to learn their names, to hear their voices..._  
 _"Well would you look at that? Seems like you'll have some new friends to play with Evie," her father chuckled, waving his free hand at the woman across the street._  
 _Her sweet smile only widened as she waved back, reaching down to pull the boys toward the house at the same time her father tried to tug her back toward their house. All three of them seemed reluctant to move, still staring at one another in pure fascination. It was like they had never seen other children before._  
 _"Come on Evie, you'll have plenty of time to meet them later. Let them get settled in first and mom will bring you down to meet them later, ok?" her father moaned, the fatigue in his voice breaking through._  
 _"Kay..." she whispered, still staring over at the twin boys with wide, unblinking eyes._  
 _She had taken two steps back down the sidewalk, her father nearly pulling her along by her hand when her other hand slipped on the red ball she was carrying. The sound of the rubber hitting the pavement was somehow louder than she thought it should be as it bounced over the small strip of grass between the side walk and the street, rolling across the cracking blacktop. Without thinking, she jerked her hand away from her father, diving over the boundary to retrieve the ball from the middle of the street._  
 _"Evie! No!" her father shouted, but the sound of his voice was drowned out by the sudden screech of the moving vans brakes._  
 _She wrapped her small hands around the ball, glancing up at the grill of the truck, frozen by fear. She knew that she shouldn't have gone after the ball, that she should have just stayed at her fathers side, but her feet had pulled her forward without her permission. Now she was going to be crushed._  
 _"Get down, stupid!" someone shouted, something solid slamming into her, pulling her down to the pavement with a thud._  
 _The smell of oil and gasoline burned her nose as she lay there on the ground, surrounded by surprisingly strong, unfamiliar arms. The undercarriage of the moving truck glided overhead as it tried to skid to a stop to avoid hitting her and her savior. It wasn't able to stop in time, however, the back bumper passing over their heads a few inches before it finally came to a halt. She could hear screaming from all sides of the street, her father’s voice louder than all the others, but all she could focus on was the face of the boy that was lying beside her. He looked slightly angry at her, as if she had somehow drug him out onto the street with her personally. His bright blue eyes searching her face for something intently before he suddenly cracked a smile._  
 _“You can’t go running out in the street like that, right? It’s dangerous,” he chuckled._  
 _“Dante! Dante, what are you doing? You could have been killed!” a woman gasped, her voice so soft Evie almost missed it._  
 _The tall woman with the golden hair swept around the back end of the truck, leaning down to pull the boy to his feet. After a moment of checking him over, her hands reached out to Evie, pulling her up off of he pavement._  
 _“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked sweetly, her fingers trailing over the scuff on her cheek that she had sustained when her face scraped the pavement as the boy tackled her._  
 _“Evie! Evie, are you hurt?” her father shouted, his strong arms pulling her away from the nice woman gently._  
 _“I’m fine, daddy,” she whispered, her eyes still locked on the woman and her son in red._  
 _“Did you see that mom? I’m a hero!” the boy, Dante, shouted striking a pose behind the truck as neighbors and the movers crowded around to see what had happened._  
 _“Yes, that’s a very brave thing you did. I’m very proud of you, but you need to be more careful…”_  
 _The adults around them moved in a blur, talking to each other and staring down at her and Dante as his brother looked on from the safety of sidewalk. It felt like she and Dante were standing completely still, staring at one another. Slowly, he stretched out his hand toward her, smiling brightly._  
 _“I’m Dante,”  he said introducing himself._  
 _“Evie.”_  
 _She reached up to shake his hand without even thinking about it, her eyes flickering from his face to his brothers. It was possible that she was just imagining it, but he looked angry. Dante’s eyes followed her gaze, looking over at his brother for a moment before he turned back to her._  
 _“That’s my brother, Vergil. He doesn’t talk much,” he chuckled._  
 _“You look the same…”_  
 _She felt stupid for stating the obvious, but it was all she could think about. They both had the same exact body, hair color, and eyes. The only thing that was different was their expressions. Dante seemed bright and happy, full of life. While Vergil seemed much more reserved, staring at her with a cold gaze as if he was judging her._  
 _“Yeah, we’re twins, you know?” Dante shrugged. “Anyway, we’ll probably see you around I guess. Stay off of the street…”_  
 _“Yeah…I will.”_  
 _She was only briefly aware of her father talking to Dante’s mother as they pulled them to opposite sides of the street, the twins vanishing into their new house just as she made it through her front gate with her father._  
 _“Well, I think it’s safe to say we won’t be playing ball in the front yard anymore,” he sighed, dropping the ball on the patchy lawn as he leaned down to pick her up._  
 _She could have cared less about the ball, all she wanted was to learn more about the strange looking twins, Dante and Vergil._  
  
    Alleyways were strictly off limits. If she had to compose a list of things you should never do in her sleepy little town, walking down alleyways in the middle of the night would have been at the very top. But the woman in the coat had caught her attention and now as she peered down the dark stretch of brick and pavement behind her bar, she couldn’t help but feel curious about who would possibly be out so late walking the streets. No one in their right mind would, unless they didn’t know any better.  
    “Miss? Hello?” she called lightly, reaching into her back pocket for the box cutter she used to cut open cases of beer on delivery days. “Miss, you shouldn’t go that way.”  
    When there was no response, she knew that she should have just ignored her gut and continued on her way home. If something were to happen, no one would come to her rescue. The police didn’t even answer emergency calls this late, she wasn’t risking her life for some woman who just happened to resemble Eva at a glance. She really didn’t even catch a proper look at her in the first place, for all she knew the woman could have been a call girl… But then again, what kind of life was she living? If you looked at it from a glance, you could mistaken her for already being dead. There was no joy in her life anymore, not like there had been when she was a child. Nothing like the days she had spent chasing after Dante and trying to get along with Vergil.  
  
   _“Dante! Get down from there, you’re going to get me into trouble again!” Evie shouted as Dante climbed out of her bedroom window onto the small stretch of roof outside._  
 _Dante had a particular fascination with heights. She was convinced that he had been a bird in a past life and the moment that she had muttered it under her breath, he wanted to fly. Now he was standing on the shingles outside of her window, glancing out over her barren back yard as if he were looking for the best place to land. When she realized that he wasn’t going to listen to her, she ran back out into the hallway, rushing Vergil up the stairs._  
 _“Vergil, he’s out on the roof again!” she sighed, watching as Vergil’s expression went from a cold blank stare to a cold frown._  
 _If there was anything that Vergil and Evie could agree on, it was their common fight to keep Dante from killing himself. He dropped his hand from the railing on the stairs, walking past her with feather light steps that she almost couldn’t hear as he strode into her room, marching right up to the window where Dante had pushed a chair over to reach the high windowsill._  
 _“Dante, get back inside now. You’re going to get us grounded,” Vergil demanded in his usual steely voice._  
 _Even though he was verbally trying to get Dante to listen to them, she didn’t think the Vergil would mind very much if they were grounded, unable to leave their house or have any visitors. There were times when she was sure that Vergil wanted nothing more than for her to vanish into thin air. He often acted as if she didn’t exist at all, only hanging around because of Dante. She found that as long as Dante wanted to hang around with her, Vergil would follow right behind him. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that were glued together, one never complete without the other. It was kind of cute at first, but as she realized that Vergil wanted nothing to do with her, she didn’t see why he just didn’t stay home rather than force himself to be around her for Dante’s sake. She wanted to get along with both of them, but their looks being similar had nothing to do with their personalities. She couldn’t learn enough about Vergil to decide whether or not she liked him. For now, all she could tell herself was that she liked them both. Dante and Vergil were two of a kind, if she wanted to be friends with one, she had to accept the other._  
 _“Come on Vergil, don’t you think it would be awesome to learn how to fly? Then we could fly away from this stupid town and go somewhere nice. I want to see the sun, breath fresh air!” Dante sighed, stretching his arms out to his sides and tossing his head back as if he might fly away at any moment._  
 _“Then take the train! People can’t fly because we don’t have wings. End of story,” Vergil demanded, crossing his arms over his chest._  
 _It was obvious that Vergil didn’t share the same affinity for heights that Dante did and thinking that he might be too scared to go out and pull his brother back she stepped up into the empty chair under the window, reaching out for Dante as she leaned out of the window. Dante wrapped his hands around hers, helping to pull her out onto the roof instead of allowing her to pull him back outside. The two of them stood there, hand in hand, staring at each other on the roof in complete silence. There was a soft breeze blowing past the house the ruffled Dante’s hair, covering his eyes for a brief moment. He was older now, much older than he had been when they first moved in. Thirteen years old, he was practically a grown boy to her. She was only a year younger, but he was already so much taller than her._  
 _“Wouldn’t you like to fly away from here, Evie? To a brighter place? To a brighter life?” he nearly whispered._  
 _It was hard to remember that Vergil was standing just inside the window under them, that he was listening to the words that felt more important to her than anything Dante had ever said before. That felt like he meant them for her and her alone. Just as she was about to open her mouth to reply to him, her foot slid out from under her sending her crashing to the shingles. Dante’s hands ripped away from hers as she fell, the shingles scratching her so badly that she felt like her arms and legs were on fire._  
 _“Evie!” Dante shouted, diving forward to try and catch her before slid off the end of the roof._  
 _She only seemed to skid a few inches before the shingles dug into her skin, catching onto her clothing so that it acted almost like Velcro. She stopped dead in the middle of the roof, watching in horror as Dante sailed right past her and right over the edge of the roof, landing somewhere below with a loud thud._  
 _“Dante? Dante!” she shouted, scrambling toward the edge of the roof, peering down into the sparse back yard to see where he had landed._  
 _There on the ground just in front of her old wooden picnic table, he lay face down, arms and legs completely still. She glanced behind her in a panic, searching for Vergil’s face to try and understand what she was suppose to do, but he was gone. Turning back toward the yard, she couldn’t help but think the worst. Dante was dead now, because of her. Choking back a sob, she cupped her scratched up hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Vergil spilled out of the back door, slipping on the damp grass as he rushed over to his brother, pulling him up into his arms. No one said anything for a long while, Vergil cradling Dante’s body, until he glared up at her with that same icy look in his eyes._  
 _“You killed him, you killed my brother…”_  
 _That had been the last time the twins had ever been allowed over her house. Eva hadn’t been angry about what had happened, she just didn’t trust Dante not to repeat the incident. There were still small details of that day that were a blur to her, how her mother had called the ambulance and their mother. Vergil glaring at her continuously until Eva forced him into the back of the ambulance. It wasn’t until later that evening that her mother received a phone call form Eva stating that Dante was in fact, alive and well. Aside from a broken wrist and a few scrapes, he was perfectly fine. Thankfully._  
 _The very next day her mother had allowed her to go visit their house, sending a basket of strawberry muffins as a get well soon present for Dante. There was a feeling in the air that she couldn't quiet place as she marched down the hallway, heading home for the night. Vergil shoved past her roughly, stopping briefly to glare at her as if she were the most terrible person on the planet. She was in all literal sense a coward when it came to Vergil. Being alone with him felt scary to her, his eyes threatening even though they mirrored Dante's flawlessly. She would have been surprised if he'd said he wanted her to die..._


	2. Mistaken Identity?

    Evie took a hesitant step forward toward the alley entrance, craning her neck to try and see any trace of the blond woman. Even though she knew there was no possible way it could have been Eva, she had to at least catch one more glimpse of the woman to be sure. It was like a tug against her body that she couldn't ignore.  
    "Hello? Are you there?" she called out, leaning against the left side of the alleyway, still gripping her box cutter tightly in her right hand.  
   _"What are you doing, idiot!"_  
    Dante's voice rang out in her head like a red flag, snapping her out of her trance like state. There was no reason to risk her life for something so stupid, and she had known better. She just couldn't seem to help herself. Shaking off the sudden lapse in judgment she turned away from the alleyway, heading back up the street toward her house. She was thankful that it was at least a full moon. The bright white pale orb hung in the sky some billions of miles away, yet it still managed to light the streets through the clouds better than any of the shoddy street lamps the city were neglecting. She'd taken a total of two steps away from the alleyway when a sudden crash of metal trashcans made her jerk back around just in time to see a bent up metal lid rolling out of the blackness into the middle of the street. Her body lurched forward, rushing back to the edge of the alleyway to see the cause of the sudden noise. Her mind reeled as she placed one foot in front of the other stepping farther and farther into the pitch black alleyway. The buildings were so close together that the moonlight couldn't reach the ground, the only sound in her ears was the sound of her own breathing. Panicked gasps of air that she gulped down forcefully as if she might never again have the chance to breath again. Several feet in front of her, a light that was hanging above one of the shops back door flickered to life as if it just realized it was dark outside. It was only seven hours late...  
    "Well look what we have here," a deep voice behind her chuckled. "You shouldn't be down here."  
    Evie spun back around, swinging her box cutter at the voice blindly. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist tightly, stopping her mid attack as if she had hit a brick wall. The light behind her hardly offered any illumination of the person that had crept up on her. It was as if they were purposely hiding just out of the lights reach, the only visible part of them was the hand that was wrapped around her wrist. Long pale fingers, black leather gloves that covered from the knuckles down, and the cuff of a red leather jacket. She was sure it had been a woman that she'd seen walk into the alleyway, yet the voice was distinctly male. Smooth an arrogant sounding. Familiar in a way that made her chest ache.  
    "Damn, you cut my jacket! Do you have any idea how much is costs to repair this thing? If all of the women in this town go around swinging weapons at just anyone, I'm going to be in for one hell of a ride..." the man chuckled, his fingers sliding off of her wrist almost gently.  
    "I-I'm sorry! You just, startled me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone..." she stammered, her limbs trembling from the sudden influx of adrenaline.  
    "I get that a lot. Anyway, shouldn't you be headed home? It's too dark out here for little ladies like you, and I'm no good at babysitting."  
    Her eyes were plastered on the void of darkness in front of her, trying to make out the man’s features through the shadows. There was something in his touch that felt _familiar_ , some hint in his voice that called out to her. As usual the darkness offered nothing but a hindrance, the outline of his body just barely visible like a phantom that didn’t actually exist.  
    “Hey? You here me lady? Go. Home,” the man repeated, waving his half gloved hand in her face.  
    “Who are-”  
    The light behind her flickered violently, a loud popping sound echoing through the alleyway followed by a shower of glass as the bulb shattered, plunging the entire alley into blackness. Her body instantly flinched closer to the strange man out of pure reflex and when his strong hands fell onto her shoulders she let out a low yelp.  
    “Shit, I guess they’re getting impatient. Just sit back and try not to get killed, I guess,” he sighed steering her behind him, back toward the street.  
    She could hear the heavy sound of his boots on the pavement as he strode farther into the alley, a long shiny piece of metal strapped to his back. As the cloud cover overhead shifted farther away from the moon, her eyes were able to adjust to the darkness with relative ease. Several things about the man were startling, the huge sword with it’s wide blade and skull hilt being the first thing to catch her attention. He wore a long red leather trench coat that almost skimmed the ground, leaving only a sliver of his black boots visible from behind. There was what appeared to be a gun holster strapped to his back under the sword, a white handle sticking out from one side, black from the other. And yet despite all of the deadly weaponry he was carrying, all she could focus on was his _hair_. In the moonlight it looked like a fresh snow, pure white and almost glowing with the full moon looming above them.  
    She had spent most of her young life wishing that Dante had some how survived the tragedy that had occurred, but deep down she knew that it was all just a childish delusion. She had seen the bodies, the blood. There hadn’t been a night in her life after that point that it hadn’t haunted her dreams. Yet, there he stood not five feet in front of her. He was staring down the alleyway at some unknown opponent, his broad shoulders still and expectant. Her mind was practically screaming at her to call out to him, to call him Dante, but the thought of it made her chest ache. If he wasn’t her Dante, it would only break her heart. Instead, her body shifted forward as she reached out toward his leather jacket to somehow test if he was actually real. Just as her fingers barely skimmed the leather a strong gust of wind rushed past them, so forceful that it literally knocked her off of her feet, sending her crashing to the ground.  
    She could feel the burn on her knees even through her jeans as they collided with the pavement. The man had somehow managed to stand his ground as the wind raged past them, his jacket fluttering wildly around his legs as the massive blade kept it from moving any father back.  
    “Don’t tell me you’re all bark and no bite! Where’s the fun in that?” the man called, his cocky voice echoing off the buildings around them.  
    Even though she felt completely terrified of the situation that was unfolding before her eyes, she found herself leaning to the side to peer past the tall man’s legs, gazing at the shadowed figures standing some ten feet away. In all her life she’d never actually seen a demon. Her mother and father had insisted that the rumors about great monsters roaming around their city at night were entirely made up. But still she wasn’t convinced. As she grew older there were more and more things that started slowly reassuring her that demons existed.  
    The death of Dante and his family, other strange murders and abductions all over town that seemed to be not only random, but lacked any real evidence of a murderer at all. Aside from the corpses of course. She had always assumed the only reason she never encountered any demons was either extreme luck or careful planning on her part. Always off the streets as quickly as possible after dark and sticking to well lit areas. But now as she sat in the middle of a poorly lit _rank_ infested alleyway, cowering behind a strange armed man, she knew without a doubt that all of those years of thinking there was something more to the shadows in their little town hadn’t been in vain.  
    The creatures looked, in a way, very much like grim reapers. Instead of a great black cloak and hood, they wore dark navy robes that hung off of their bone white limbs. Deep red eyes and gaping mouths, glaring over at them from the darkness. In their almost skeletal hands they carried great scythes, metal glinting in the low moonlight. From her low vantage point she counted as many as six of the huge weapons looming in the tight fitted alleyway, metal clanking metal as the beasts struggled to occupy the limited space.  
    “You guys really know how to crash a party, showing your ugly faces like that. How’s a guy suppose to score hot chicks with you ruining everything?” the man chuckled, pulling Evie’s eyes away from the looming creatures to what little she could see of his face.  
    He had a sharp jaw line and even though he was grinning, she could see a tightness around his eyes that told her he was worried about something. Whether it was the monsters or the fact that she was there, she wasn’t sure. Part of her just hoped that he was capable of doing some kind of damage with his mini arsenal. As if to answer her thoughts, the man reached behind his back, pulling the two guns from their holsters, aiming the glistening metal at the monsters.  
    “You still here lady? You really should run, you know,” he scoffed and without any further warning, began to unload a shower of bullets at the demons.  
    The only word that she had to describe the sound that followed was : _mortifying_. The gunshots were loud and steady, firing faster than she thought handguns should be able to. The barrage that he unleashed caused the demons to wail out in agony as their limbs were struck, some of the bullets bouncing off of their weapons, ricocheting back toward them striking trash cans and bricks. Evie yelped as a bullet hit particularly close to her leg nearly exploding the trash bag it had come into contact with. She found herself shrinking closer to the mans legs, wary of the deadly looking blade perched on his back, too afraid to run. What if she made a run for it and was hit with a stray bullet? Then she would be a _prime_ target. She would have to wait until the assault was over and pray that her legs still worked well enough for her to get away.  
    The rain of bullets suddenly ceased and she let out a sigh of relief that he had apparently run out of ammo. She chanced a small glance past his legs again, checking to see if it really was safe to run. The six demons that had been occupying the alleyway were now almost unrecognizable heaps of boney appendages, rags and weapons.  
    “Shit,” the man cursed under his breath, but she failed to see what the problem was.  
    From where she was sitting it looked like he had saved the day, or rather the night, and with the immediate danger gone she managed to fall right back into marveling over how much he looked like her Dante.  
    “What are you-” she muttered, placing her hands on the pavement to push herself up.  
    “Don’t move,” he demanded and her body instantly froze with the command as if he had some kind of magical power over her limbs.  
    A soft crackling noise rose up from the opposite end of the alleyway, just above where the navy wraiths had been dispatched. The ashy substance that she had assumed belonged to the demons began to rise up from the pavement, sucked up by some kind of invisible vacuum as it created a filthy looking mass floating in the air. The man lowered his guns slowly, watching the mass grow intently and she wondered why he was hesitating to stop it before it came to completion. A sharp angry howl echoed through the alleyway causing her to flinch as the mass exploded taking the form of another wraith. This one was alone, but _much_ larger, tall and sickly gray looking with dingy white cloth clinging to it’s body much like the ones before it. She could see the beast sneer, heaving an even larger scythe in it’s boney hands as it tilted it’s head back and forth, searching for something. It had a dingy cloth wrapped over it’s eyes, but something told her that it wasn’t all that blind.  
    She watched in pure horror as more of the ash like substance swirled around it’s form and with a terrible shriek it vanished into thin air just as suddenly as it appeared. For a moment she was hopeful that it had retreated after seeing what the man had reduced it’s friends to, but she could tell by the man’s tense posture that the danger hadn’t passed. It was possible it was going to gather more friends and soon they would be surrounded.  
    “Where did it go?” she gasped turning her head this way and that to search for it.  
    “I said don’t move, idiot!”  
    Her body froze again, not because he commanded her to, but because he’d called her an idiot. When they were kids Dante would always scold her for doing something reckless even though he would turn right around and do the exact same thing just to keep _her_ from getting hurt. He’d called her idiot more times than he’d said her actual name. If she’d had any doubts about him being Dante before, they were gone now. She gawked up at him, still lost in her own amazement when a sudden gust of wind grazed the left side of her head so quickly she didn’t even have time to flinch. A pained screech erupted from behind her and as her head whipped around to see what had just happened, she was halted coming face to face with a shiny metal blade. The demon was looming behind her, arms raised above its head as it twirled the scythe around the cleave them both in half, but it’s attack had been cut short. In all literal terms. The mans overly large blade was lodged into it’s midsection, completely hacking the demon in half. She could only stare in pure shock as it toppled backward, vanishing into a cloud of ash. When had he drawn his sword? She tried to think back to an instant where he’d reached for it, but she kept coming up blank. One second he was facing the other end of the alleyway with his guns drawn and the next he was facing her with that huge sword rammed into the gut of a demon. Was that what she felt rush past her skull? Her eyes stung as she glanced up at his face, tears threatening to break free at any moment. He was glaring down at her with ice blue eyes and a frown on his lips. This man _was_ Dante, she was sure of it. Even if he wasn’t exactly the same as she remembered him. Something had changed, a hardness to his attitude that reminded her a little of Vergil…until he suddenly cracked a smile, spinning the blade of his sword away from her head to hook it on his back again.  
    “Just keeps getting easier!” he chuckled, stepping beside her to walk past. “Well, my job here is done. Stay out of alleyways, little lady.”  
    He waved his hand at her quickly, taking a step away from her back in the direction she had first rushed into the alleyway from. Her mind rebelled at the thought of letting walk out of her life again after all of those years thinking he was dead and her hands shot out to catch the end of his coat before he could vanish.  
    “Wait!” she choked, feeling him jerk to a stop, the leather straining under her fingers as he tried to free himself.  
    “What are you doing? Let go of the merchandise lady!” he snapped, reaching back to tug his jacket out of her hand with a sharp jerk.  
    It was so easy for him to dislodge her, to just shrug her off. He didn’t even glance back at her as he continued down the alleyway, head down as if he were somehow ashamed of something that had happened even though he’d technically saved her life.  
    “Wait, please, Dante!”  
    The second that the words were out of her mouth she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and blurry from the tears that were welling up. Amazingly he stopped, turning his head ever so slightly to peer back at her with that same burdened frown on his face. He’d _reacted_.  
    “Look lady, you’re in shock or something. I don’t know who you think I am, but I’ve never met you before in my life. Go home, take a hot bath and go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning,” he sighed, reaching up to brush something off of his shoulder aimlessly.  
    “I’m not in shock! I know you’re him. There’s no doubt about it, you’re Dante,” she demanded crawling to her feet.  
    Whether it really was shock or just the sudden vertigo she nearly toppled over sideways, barely catching herself on the brick wall, scraping her palm in the process. He turned around to face her, his eyebrows raised as if he was surprised by her reaction. She refused to back down, she refused to let him go again. Slowly, he shoved his hands into his black leather pants pockets and shrugged his shoulders dramatically.  
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he demanded, his voice just as determined as her heart.


	3. Reverse Psychology, Please?

    _I don’t know what you’re talking about._  
  
    The sounds of gunfire, screeching demons and her own panicked breaths were still resonating in her ears. The sound of spent shells hitting the pavement were like rain drops on a in roof, but no where near as comforting. Despite everything that had just happened, his arrogant voice was the only thing she could focus on. The way he had that perfect asshole tone and the attitude to match it. How she knew without a doubt in her heart that it was Dante, yet he still refused to admit it. Just knowing that he was alive, that he was standing _right_ there made her legs feel like rubber, her heart literally sighing in relief.  
    “You are Dante, I wouldn’t mistake just anyone for him,” she responded, inching close to him using the wall for support. Her hand drug along the brick, digging farther into her skin but she didn’t care. “You called me an idiot, just like he used to.”  
    “Because you’re being an idiot. You see how you’re dragging your bloody hand down the wall like that? You might as well jump into a lion cage with a steak strapped to your neck. Demons and blood are _never_ a good mix. Now I don’t know who the hell you think I am, but I’m telling you I don’t know who _you_ are. So you’d best just get that out of your head right now.”  
    “No, I don’t care if you don’t remember me, I won’t pass this chance up. I was there the day they wheeled all of you out. I saw them loading your bodies into the ambulance, Dante.”  
    Something in his expression shifted at that statement, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as if she had struck a nerve. For a moment she was sure she’d gotten through to him as he strode forward, ripping her hand away from the wall. Even as violent as his movements were, his fingers were still gentle as he wrapped them around her wrist and examined the lacerations on her palm.  
    “Man you really _are_ in shock, aren’t you? If by bodies you mean corpses, then you’re farther off your rockers than I thought. How could I be someone whose corpse you’ve seen?” he scoffed, digging into his jacket pocket to pull out what looked like a handkerchief.  
    “I don’t know. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I died back there and you’re just some kind of illusion.”  
    “You didn’t die, lady.”  
    She watched him intently as he wrapped her hand in the makeshift bandage, his eyebrows pressed together in concentration. She knew how crazy it must have sounded, that he was her deceased best friend from eight years ago. If she had heard someone else talking like that she would have said they were bonkers, but this _was_ Dante. There was no possibly way two random people could look identical like that. Unless…  
    “Then maybe…Vergil?” she muttered, ducking her head down to try and see his reaction better. “Ouch!”  
    She hissed lightly as he jerked a tight knot into the handkerchief, hesitating to answer her. She knew that he wasn’t Vergil, but she would try anything to get a response out of him.  
    “Now I’m someone else? Did he die too? Call you an idiot as well? It doesn’t matter what name you come up with, it’s not me,” he breathed, turning her hand over in his to check his work. “Now that you’re in shock _and_ bleeding I guess I’ll have to walk you home so you don’t get snatched up.”  
    She opened her mouth to protest, if he really didn’t want to walk her home she didn’t want him to feel obligated, but she couldn’t force the words out. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to leave her alone. Even with him holding her wrist her hands were still trembling like a leaf. She watched his fingers slowly slide off of her wrist and he waved her forward as if she was suppose to walk ahead of him.  
    “Well? Lead the way…” he mumbled, waving his hand again in impatience.  
    Now he was even pretending that he didn’t know where she lived. She took a quick glance at the shambles of demon bodies that littered the alleyway and took a slow step forward toward the street. Her legs still didn’t seem to want to cooperate with her brain, wobbling so much that she almost toppled over again before strong hands wrapped around her shoulders to keep her steady.  
    “Jeeze, what a pain. Am I going to have to carry you the whole damn way?” he snapped in her ear, causing her to flinch forward.  
    The irritation in his voice helped her to find the control she needed over her limbs and shuffled forward out of his reach. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to him.  
    “I’m sorry,” she muttered, running her fingers over the palm of her bandaged hand.  
    “Whatever, look if you end up barfing just give me a heads up. I don’t feel like scrubbing vomit off of my boots.”  
    She chanced a glance back at him as she stepped out onto the poorly lit street, his hands were shoved back into his pants pockets as he followed a few feet behind her. There was a second where she was sure he was staring at her ass, but she decided to ignore it.  
    “I’m not going to vomit,” she whispered, brushing her hair back behind her left ear.  
    “Yeah, you say that now, but sooner or later it’s going to hit you. I’ve seen it tons of times.”  
    “You’ve saved many women from demons in alleyways?”  
    The thought of him sweeping into another alleyway and saving some other strange girl made her slightly jealous. She just hoped he wouldn’t notice how her cheeks flushed pink at the thought of him being some kind of knight in shining armor to her.  
    “It’s more common than it sounds, though I have to admit, it’s hardly anyone good looking,” he sighed peering over at her.  
    “What’s _that_ suppose to mean?”  
    The words didn’t feel like her own, but they popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. The expression on her face was a mix of hurt and anger, he didn’t think she was good looking? He frowned over at her, his long strides quickly brought him right next to her as they walked slowly down the sidewalk.  
    “It means I’m use to finding homeless people about to become demon snacks? I think you’re the first person I’ve come across that doesn’t smell like a trash can,” he mumbled, reaching up to ruffle his white hair. “I guess I got lucky you’re such a babe.”  
    Part of her wished she had never opened her mouth, blushing furiously as she picked up her pace to put a little distance between them. She didn’t plan far enough ahead for him to actually admit that she was attractive. Somehow she felt like arguing with him would have been an easier way to interact with him. She walked ahead of him in silence, wrapping her arms around herself to try and feel somewhat comforted, but it really wasn’t working. Her brain kept creating little scenarios that made her either flush a darker shade of red or sigh shakily.  Dante had always been an attractive kid, there was no mistake about that, but something about the way that he carried himself now made her feel extremely tense. In a very personal way.  
    “Are you alright up there?” he asked after nearly twenty minutes of walking in complete silence.  
    “Y-Yes, why do you ask?” she breathed, trying to keep her mind from getting carried away with it’s images of him.  
    “You sound like you’re about to have a panic attack.”  
    “Well, you’re far enough away that I won't barf on your boots, so you have nothing to worry about right?”  
    She shot a glare back at him and he just shrugged as if to say : Good point. How many times had she had this dream? Where Dante hadn’t died and they had actually spent all those lost years together. She had always assumed that they would have been an item, but those were just fantasies. Now instead of having the dream reunion that she wanted, she found herself irritated with his attitude. Her hands were shaking in frustration now, wishing that she could just turn around, grab him by that gaudy leather jacket and shake him like a rag doll until he just came clean with her. Yet her feet still kept moving forward, swaying every now and again as she was paying more attention to her own thoughts than where she was walking. It wasn’t until she realized that she was in front of her yard that she stopped moving, gawking up at her house as if it were the first time she’d seen it in ages.  
    The short wooden fence that separated her yard from the side walk had once been painted a pristine white, but now it looked more like a faded gray. The paint chipping in more places than she could count, showing the old wood underneath that desperately needed to be replaced. She could remember when her father installed the fence back before the twins had ever moved into their sleepy little neighborhood. The house itself was nothing special, a two story brick Victorian that was painted the same washed out white color as the fence. A person passing by would never give it a second glance and she was sure it was just because of what she had gone through, but the house itself looked _dead_.  
    “This it?” he asked, nudging her in the shoulder.  
    “What?” she gasped, turning to look at him with wide eyes as he startled her out of her thoughts.  
    “Your house. Is this it?”  
    He gave her a funny look, almost as if she was some kind of raving lunatic. She could only nod sharply in return, reaching out to grasp the front gate. She knew that as soon as she walked through the gate that he would vanish, but her legs moved forward without her permission, trembling slightly as if to say she should just faint. Then he would no doubt carry her into the house, he’d gone as far to walk her home, what was a few more feet? Stopping halfway through the gate, she turned back to glance at him with hopeful eyes. It was obvious that he wanted to leave by the distance between himself and the gate, but she wasn’t ready to let him go.  
    “Do you…want to come in for a drink? It’s the least I could do to repay you,” she stammered and instantly wanted to slap herself in the face. Do you want to come in for a drink? How _lame_ was that?  
    He turned his head to glance up and down the street before he just shrugged and stepped forward through the gate, right into her personal space. He was literally an inch in front of her, the smell radiating off of him a mixture of leather and something else she couldn’t quite place. At first she assumed it was just some kind of cologne until she tucked her head down to avoid his eyes and realized she smelled the same thing clinging to her clothes. Something reminiscent of sulfur? She had to stagger back a bit to remove him from such a close proximity, taking a full step backward before she turned around and headed for the front door. She could hear him scoff behind her as she reached out and turned the handle and simply pushed the door open.  
    “What?” she asked quietly, flicking on the porch light as she stepped into the dark house.  
    “You don’t even lock the front door? You really are asking for trouble, aren’t you?” he chuckled, following behind her.  
    “It’s not thieves you have to worry about around here. And what you do have to worry about, well, locks aren’t going to keep them out.”  
    As soon as he was clear of the door she shut it, indicating to the two deadbolt locks and two thick chain locks she had screwed into the door a few years ago. There was no point in locking them when she wasn’t in the house, there was nothing of value in her home. Carefully she locked the two deadbolts, the handle and the chain locks before she turned back to him with a small smile.  
    “I lock them when it counts,” she added, squeezing past him.  
    He was so tall that he seemed to take up then entire doorway, the way his arms were crossed over his chest made it impossible to just walk past him without some kind of contact. She had to clear her mind as her hands gripped his forearm to balance herself as she pushed past, holding her breath until she was past him and headed down the short hallway toward the kitchen, clicking on the light as she stepped through the archway. He didn’t follow her right away, his heavy footsteps clunking around in the living room for a moment before he started down the hallway.  
    “Nice little place you got here…” he sighed, propping his arms up on either side of the archway that lead into the kitchen.  
    There was at least five feet between them but somehow she felt like he was too close again. She ducked down into the fridge to avoid having to deal with him, again she had underestimated him and never planned past getting him in the front door. The fact that he was standing in her humble little kitchen was a little daunting, he just didn’t seem to fit in anymore. She wasn’t even sure what had possessed her to ask him in for a drink, the only thing she had in her fridge was bottled water.  
    “I hope this is ok,” she sighed in defeat as she pulled out two bottles and held one out to him.  
    He cracked a smile, seeing how embarrassed she was that she only had water to offer him and stepped forward into the small space to take the bottle from her. Without a single word he cracked the cap open and took a drink as if it were the last bottle of water on earth.  
    “So…” she breathed, rolling her bottle around in her fingers without opening it.  
    What was she suppose to say now? How are you still alive? And more importantly, why didn’t you come back for me? That was the most important thing she wanted to know. Not how he had somehow magically survived death, but why he hadn’t come back for her. The thought of meaning so little to him to even let her know he was still alive made her chest ache. So badly that she had to literally place her hand over her chest to make sure her heart was still beating.  
    “So, what?” he asked, watching her with a raised eyebrow as if she might keel over right there in the kitchen.  
    “How long have you been back?” That seemed like a safe question.  
    “Been back? This is my first time here, just passing through, lady.”  
    “Are you still going to pretend you don’t know who I am? Really Dante, that’s a little hurtful.”  
    “I can’t pretend to not know someone I’ve never met. You going to drink that or just play with it?” he demanded, pointing at the bottle in her hands.  
    Glaring at him, she cracked the cap open and took a small swig before she closed it and shoved it back into the fridge. There had to be something that she could do to get a reaction out of him other than complete denial. Something that he couldn’t ignore no matter how much of an asshole he had grown into.  
    “Well then, since you’re just ‘passing through’, do you have a place to stay? It’s late.” she asked, tilting her head at him.  
    “Not particularly. I was just headed straight through when I came across you and your friends. Why, you offering?”  
    “My old room has a queen sized bed in it now, you can take it if you want. You did save my life, after all.”  
    She moved past him slowly, noting how his eyes followed her toward the archway with a surprised look.  
    “You’re just going to let some strange man stay in your house? Are you mentally ill or something?”  
    She paused in the archway, glancing back at him sadly before she smiled, shaking her head lightly.  
    “You’re not a strange man, you’re Dante…”  
    Without waiting for him to respond she started down the hallway toward the stairs, listening to him groan loudly in protest. She knew that she probably should have shown him to the room, but she was sure that he really knew his own way around the house without her telling him where to go. There was a nagging feeling somewhere in the pit of her stomach that was demanding something, what it was she couldn’t quite place, but she was going to the bathroom just to take preemptive measures. He had said she would be sick sooner or later and as she stood staring at her pale reflection in her vanity mirror, she believed him. Her eyes were wide and erratic, her chest heaving violently and her hands were _still_ shaking. Was it possible that she really was in shock? Reaching over she slammed the bathroom door shut just in time to dive for the toilet, emptying the small amount of water she had just ingested and whatever else had been in her stomach in one single heave.  
    Her arms wobbled as she forced herself back up to her feet, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, groaning in disgust. Vomiting had to be one of her least favorite bodily functions of all time, but she at least felt a little better after the fact. Deciding that it would probably help to calm her down, she turned on the shower as she started to strip away her jeans and t-shirt. The hot water was like a god send, relaxing her trembling body just enough to help her regain her composure. She peeled off the handkerchief from her scrapped up hand, holding it under the hot water, enduring the sting as it washed away from the grit from the bricks. If he was still lingering around the house when she got out of the shower she would have to go right back to drilling him with questions until she got somewhere. Maybe she had gone about it all wrong. Maybe if she went along with his game, saying that he wasn’t in fact Dante, they might come to some sort of understanding.  
    Cutting off the shower she peeked out of the shower curtain before stepping out, making sure that the bathroom door was indeed still shut. She didn’t think that he would intrude on her, but then again, he was a _strange_ man wasn’t he? Wrapping herself in a plush white towel she stood over the sink and scrubbed her teeth vigorously, only stepping out into her bedroom when she was certain they were properly cleaned of any indication she was ever sick. She was sure when she had gone into the bathroom she had been in too much of a rush to shut her bedroom door, but it was shut. So he was upstairs? Smiling to herself she slid on her underwear, a pair of black cotton shorts and a tank top…just normal sleeping attire. But as she reached for the door to go in search of him she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over her dresser. Wet hair, little clothing and flushed cheeks. Thinking that it would be best not to be so enticing after everything that had happened she dove back into her closet and pulled out her mothers old white silk robe and wrapped it around her body before creeping out into the hallway.  
    When her parents had died and left the house to her, she moved from her old bedroom into theirs for the adjoining master bathroom. At the very end of the hall was her bedroom and the half bath right across the hall. The light was on, a looming shadow cast on the floral wallpapered wall that told her he was indeed in her old room. Smiling to herself she moved down the hall as quietly as possible, peeking into the room to catch him going through her things. He was standing with his back to the door right in front of the window, overlooking the back yard. She could almost see him climbing out onto the roof, spreading his long arms as far as they would go in an attempt to fly away.  
    “So, what is you name?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe.  
    He turned his head slightly, not even enough to look back at her fully, his hands twirling something around in front of him that she couldn’t see. Her eyes traveled around the room, taking in the bed where he had laid out his guns and that massive sword across the comforter. Part of her remembered that the blade had been imbedded in a demons midsection not to long ago and worried that it might stain the satin white bedspread.  
    “My name?” he asked, turning around completely, revealing an empty glass bottle in his hands. One of the old perfume bottles from her mothers collection that she had saved as a memento, they were all arranged on the dresser in the room like some kind of shrine to her memory.  
    “If you’re not Dante, who are you…”


	4. Out Of Body Experience

    He seemed honestly floored by the statement. She didn’t understand how he could play stupid in both contexts. Either he had no clue what she was talking about when she called him Dante, or he had no clue as to why she was asking what to call him _other_ than Dante. There was just no winning with him. She stepped farther into the room, headed straight for the bed but he moved forward too, stopping her advance short.  
    “Don’t touch those,” he demanded, his voice a little threatening. “That’s all I need, for you to shoot yourself in the foot.”  
    “Are you going to answer my question?” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest to stop his gaze. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her chest since he’d turned around.  
    “I thought you were convinced I was this Dante?”  
    “I thought you said you _weren’t_ Dante?”  
    He frowned over at her, walking back over to the dresser to put back the bottle. The glass clinking against the other empty bottles set of a short chorus of wind chime like sounds that she found oddly pleasant given the situation.  
    “It’s not important, I wont be in town long enough for it to matter,” he sighed, glancing back over at her as he peeled off his leather jacket.  
    What kind of idiot did he take her for? First he said that he didn’t know her and now he couldn’t even make up a fake name to go by to prove that he really wasn’t Dante. How lame ass was that? She tried not to stare as he pulled the jacket off, tossing it onto the bed to strategically cover up his guns as if she were some kind of three year old that was going to go after them the moment he turned his back. She hadn’t planned on touching them in the first place, she just wanted to get a closer look at them was all. She hadn’t been able to really look at him in the alleyway after becoming obsessed with his face, but not that he was standing in front of her without his jacket on she realized he hadn’t been wearing a shirt the entire time. His entire upper body was sculpted, something that she had only ever seen in magazines. No one was that perfect.  
    “What is your name?” he asked, smirking at her when he realized she was staring.  
    She quickly looked away, crossing the room to the window, peering out over the short expanse of roof. There were times when she could recall the day he fell off of it so vividly, her leg still burned from scrapping across the shingles. She rubbed her leg absently, reaching up to unlock the window.  
    “Why should I even bother telling you if you can‘t even tell me your name?” she countered, pulling the window up to let the cool night breeze in.  
    “Guess you got a point. Sorry for asking.”  
    “You know, I’ve never seen a real demon before…”  
    She could hear him chuckle behind her, the weapons on the bed clinking together lightly as he sat down on the bed. She couldn’t turn around and face him, feeling slightly crazy for the things that were bouncing around in her skull. Demons were real? There had always been that small shred of doubt in her mind, but now that was completely gone.  
    “What? Have you only ever seen the fake ones? I don’t want to be the one to burst your bubble, but you’ve probably seen more real demons than you think you have.”  
    “How could I see them without knowing it? I would remember seeing something like those things before.”  
    “Demons come in all shapes and sizes, lady. Not all of them are exactly what they look like…”  
    She nodded absently, reaching out to touch the windowsill with the tips of her fingers. Her left hand looked nasty where she had scrapped it on the brick wall, she hadn’t wrapped the wound in anything after leaving the shower and she could see where the blood was starting to scab over slightly. Dark maroon, almost black in some places. It had been a long time since she had looked at blood so closely, her eyes fixed on the small dots as if she were hypnotized by them. It reminded her of the house, the trails left all over the floors and stairs. The blood that seemed to cover every surface indicating that there would be no survivors.  
  
     _“Evie! Where are you going, get back in here!” her mother called, leaning out the front door as Evie jogged up the walkway toward the gate._  
 _“Come on mom, you said I could head over there as soon as my plate was clean, and it is clean!” she whined, stopping short of the gate, dropping her arms to her sides in irritation._  
 _She and her mother were mirror images of each other. The same hazel eyes that were more green than brown, the same caramel colored hair, but Evie couldn’t stand to keep it as long as her mothers. The only difference between them was her mother’s frailty. She always looked pale and sickly and whenever Evie questioned about it her father would simply tell her that her mother was “tired”._  
 _“By clean I mean in the dish strainer, not clean of food!” her mother laughed, waving her hand out the door. “Go on, you’ll be of no use to me if you keep thinking about going over there.”_  
 _Smiling brightly, she dove through the front gate, sprinting down the sidewalk as fast she could without falling flat on her face. It was still early in the morning, only around nine, but she knew that Dante would get up if he knew she was waiting for him. As she looked both ways, twice, before crossing the street she caught a glimpse of several other kids standing around on the side of Dante’s house, trying to sneak a peek through a window. There had been several times when she caught the teenagers from the next street over trying to beat the twins up, calling them bastard children because they didn’t have a father. That was when she had learned to fear Vergil. He’d picked up the biggest rock he could find and slammed it into one of the boy’s head with the most deadpan expression she had ever seen. Even as blood splattered over his hand and all over the boy’s face he didn’t even flinch. It took Dante several moments to pull his brother away and their mother had to have a long talk with the police about it._  
 _“Hey! What are you doing, get the hell away from there!” she shouted, rushing up the front walkway toward the twin’s house, glaring angrily at the teenagers._  
 _“Shit it’s his girlfriend, run!” one of the boys shouted as they scattered like roaches into the next yard over._  
 _Evie stood on their front porch, glaring out over the yard until she was certain every one of them were gone before she turned to knock on the front door. Tapping her feet on the porch to the beat of a song she head heard on the TV earlier that morning, she waited for their mom to open the door. She’d gone over the song three times in her head before she realized that no one was coming to open the door. She could hear Dante’s voice in the back of her head telling her just come right in whenever she wanted to and while she thought it was a little rude, she was curious to know why they hadn’t answered the door yet. Their mom was always up with the crack of dawn it seemed._  
 _“Ms. Eva? Dante?” she called out, cracking the door open slightly. If the front door was unlocked, they were home right? “Vergil?”_  
 _By the time she had her entire head in through the door she realized that there was something seriously wrong with the scene she was looking at. Dante’s house was always spotless and at times it was so clean she joked about it looking like they didn’t live there at all. But all of the furniture in the living room was turned over, tossed this was and that with several of the cushions torn, the coffee and end tables shattered to pieces. Without thinking, she shoved the door open, hearing glass scrape across the wood flooring as she stepped into the house._  
 _“Ms. Eva! Dante!” she shouted, feeling her heart slam into her rib cage like a sledge hammer._  
 _Trying to disturb as little of the debris as possible, Evie navigated the front hall, her eyes trailing over all of the shattered photo’s of Dante, his mother, and Vergil that had once been hanging on the walls. Now they all lay in shambles on the floor, scattering glass like a mine field waiting to harm someone if they stepped the wrong way. Their house was laid out in much the same fashion as her own, the archway that lead into the kitchen was smeared with something that caused her to jerk to a stop, handprints in deep maroon swept into the kitchen as if someone were trying to escape from something._  
 _“Ms. Eva…” Evie muttered, her teeth chattering as she peeked around the corner into the kitchen._  
 _It looked just as trashed as the living room, dishes, blood, and what looked like dinner strewn around the room like some kind of violent food fight had occurred, and there laying the middle of the floor was a mess of blond hair covered in blood and broken china. She could see where the woman’s fingers were digging into the tile, caked in blood where there were shards of broken glass sticking out of them, her clothing tattered and torn. Even with her laying face down in the filth, Evie could see that the woman wasn’t breathing and while it wasn’t something she had ever seen before, she knew enough of death to know Eva was no longer there._  
 _Her heart bucked in her chest when she realized if Eva was dead, what had happened to the twins? Spinning around on the glass she nearly slipped, rushing back out of the room toward the stairs. The second floor of the house wasn’t in any better shape, in fact, to Evie it looked worse. There were great claw marks dug into the walls leading down the hallway. Their house had three bedrooms and a half bath off of the hallway, the first room that she came to was an office. The old desk was overturned, the books that littered the shelves around the room were thrown everywhere with pages torn out of them. And if at all possible, there was even more blood here than there was in the kitchen downstairs. She didn’t see how if they had killed one of the twins in this room, how there would be any more blood than with Eva. They were so much smaller than their mother…_  
 _She was about to turn away to check the next room when she saw a tuft of white hair peeking out from under the overturned desk. Lurching forward, she slid across the pages scattered over the floor on her knees, reaching under the desk to try and pull whoever it was out._  
 _“Dante, Vergil! Get up!” she shouted, scraping around blindingly under the desk for whatever she could find._  
 _As soon as she felt skin she latched on, ducking her head down as far as possible to peek under the desk. She couldn’t see his face, but the blue shirt he was wearing was enough to tell her it was Vergil. She had to lay down on her stomach to stretch her arm all the way up under the desk, laying her hand over his chest to see if he was breathing. Just like his mother, he was completely still and covered in blood. Sitting up she drew in a deep breath, trying not to look at the blood that was now covering her hands as she fumbled around through the debris for the phone. She had remembered seeing one on the desk before, so it had to be somewhere in the room now. She found the cordless phone buried under a pile of blood soaked books, the numbers already smeared with blood as if someone had already tried using it to call for help._  
 _“Come on, come on!” she snapped, her bloody fingers slipping on the numbers as she pressed the emergency number._  
 _“9-1-1 emergency, what is-”_  
 _“You have to help me!” Evie shouted before the man on the other end of the line could even get the words out. “They killed my friends, help!”_  
 _“Ma’am calm down, can you tell me where you are?”_  
 _“The whole house, there’s blood every-”_  
 _A sudden crash behind her caused her to jump, dropping the phone into the piles of books as she glanced out into the hallway for the cause of the noise. She could faintly hear the operator calling out to her, but she was on her feet, rushing down out into the hallway thinking that Dante had somehow managed to survive._  
 _“Dante? Dante, where are you!” she nearly screamed, rushing down the hall to the next bedroom._  
 _It was their mothers room, the huge bed was big enough to sleep almost six grown people comfortably, and unlike the rest of the house, this room was surprisingly clean. There was only one long trail of blood that lead from the hallway where she was standing to right under the bed. She couldn’t see what it was that had fallen over and she thought for a moment that it could have just been something that she had knocked loose on her way up the stairs._  
 _“Dante…are you in here?” she muttered, stepping around the trail of dark blood smeared over the floor as she moved toward the bed._  
 _Dropping to her knees slowly, she placed both hands down on the floor in front of her and lowered herself down to look under the bed. She choked back a scream as she came face to face with Dante. He was laying on his side right under the edge of the bed, his eyes were slightly open, the once bright blue orbs were now dull and graying. There was blood smeared over his face, covering most of his red shirt and jeans. For the first time since she’d stepped foot in the house she felt tears well up in her eyes, reaching out with one hand to brush her fingers over his cheek. He was already cold._  
 _“Dante…Dante, wake up,” she whispered, knowing he could just get back up like he did every other time he got hurt. She’d seen him walk away barley scratched from accidents that should have killed him. This should have been no different. “Dante, please.”_  
 _Ignoring all of the blood and gore, she slid down on her stomach, wrapping her hands around his shoulders and pulled him back out from under the bed, cradling his cold form in her arms. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the sounds of police sirens wailing through the streets, but she just sat there with him in her arms, refusing to believe he was gone._  
 _She could remember the looks on the faces of the paramedics when they found her, she was crying hysterically, and it took them several minutes to pry Dante’s body out of her arms. A police officer carried her kicking and screaming back down the stairs and out the front door into the waiting arms of her mother. The neighbors were all gathered in their front yards, the teenagers from earlier looking on with terrified expressions. Even over the sirens and shouts from inside the house as they found the bodies of the family, she could hear everyone outside whispering. A word that would haunt her for the rest of her life._ Demons _._  
  
    “Hey, you hear me?”  
    The sudden voice beside her snapped her out of her vivid memory, bringing her almost crashing back into her own body as if she had somehow managed to leave it to experience the pain from her childhood all over again. Her fingers were shaking on the windowsill again, her eyes stinging with tears. She jerked back away from the window, finding him towering right next to her with a worried expression on his face.  
    “Where did you just go?” he asked, tapping the side of his head as if he somehow knew she had been somewhere else in her brain.  
    “I thought you would just get back up like you always did. I…didn’t think you could die. But there was so much blood. I’m so sorry…” she gasped, cupping her hands over her mouth as she spoke.  
    “Shit, don’t do that,” he growled, watching in horror as tears spilled down her cheeks.  
    He ran a gloved hand through his hair roughly, obviously unsure of exactly how to handle her sudden emotional outburst. There was no possible way she could just stand there and pretend that he wasn’t someone she had loved and lost. Taking a shaky step back away from him, she turned to leave the room, trying to see through the now steady stream of tears. She had taken a total of two steps when his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, halting her instantly. His body was warm against her, a heart shattering contrast to the cold body she could remember clinging to all those years ago. For a moment he just stood there, molded to her body like he was another part of her, before he slowly turned her around. His hand snaked up her back, burying itself in her hair at the base of her neck and pressed her face into the hollow of his neck.  
    “Look, I don’t know what you saw that day, it couldn’t have been easy for you and I’m _sorry_ …” he sighed, his breath coming out as more of a stagger, like he was having trouble controlling it. “I am the one who’s sorry, Evie.”


	5. The Other Brother

    Warmth. It was something that she hadn’t realized she was missing until he was standing there with her in his arms. He was just _warm_. Time seemed to stand still as she he held her and for the moment it didn’t matter that he had died. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t come back to tell her that he was still alive. All that mattered was that he was there. It didn’t take long however, for reality to come crashing back down on her, feeling the gentle heave of his chest against hers. The second that she tried to free herself from his grasp his arms dropped from her shoulders in complete compliance. The sad sort of look he was giving her was something she never though she would see on Dante’s face. He’d always been such a happy child that it didn’t seem possible for him to frown like that.  
    “Why?”  
    The word was out of her mouth without a second thought. Now that they were past all off the evasiveness over who he really was, she needed answers. She needed to hear him tell her that he didn’t come back for some grand reason. That her very life would have been in danger if he had and that was the only reason why he never bothered to fill her in on what had happened. Not that he had just forgotten about her, that he didn’t _care_.  
    “Why, what?” he asked, the tone of his voice still teetering on the edge of asshole.  
    “Why didn’t you ever come back?”  
    He groaned loudly, ruffling his hair again as he marched over to the bed and began pulling the weapons off of the comforter. After propping his sword up against the wall he placed his guns on the bedside table and flung his jacket to the floor like he owned the place.  
    “That’s a pretty complicated question. Can’t we just stick to something simple? How have you been? Things like that…” he grumbled, laying out over the bed on his back with a grunt.  
    Taking a deep breath she reached up to brush the tears away from her cheeks, wondering how he could be so nonchalant about the entire ordeal, but decided it had to be for a reason. The fact that he was there in the first place meant he had to care about her in some way. For now, she just needed to take things slowly. The subject was no doubt touchy for him. She couldn’t flat out ask if Vergil had really died or if he was floating around in the world somewhere. That would just be too cruel.  
    “Alright, how have you been? You seem…healthy,” she said with a nod. What was she suppose to say after all those years thinking he had died?  
    “It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a question. How have _you_ been, Evie?”  
    “I’ve been…here.”  
    He sat up on his elbows, hitching an eyebrow up at her. What was she suppose to say? That she had been floating through life with no particular direction after losing her best friend and then her parents a few years later? She had no motivation to do anything more than wake up in the late afternoon and head to work, serving alcoholics with even less motivation to live. But then again, maybe that was the kind of honesty he needed to hear in order to be honest with her.  
    “You know, to be honest, I never thought I’d find you here,” he chuckled, apparently amused by her response. Or lack thereof.  
    “Really? Why is that?”  
    “Because we used to talk about getting the hell out of this place all the time. I was sure you would have gotten out the first chance you got. Especially after everything that happened. I mean, where are your parents?”  
    “They’re gone. They passed a couple of years ago.”  
    “No shit? What happened?”  
    She shrugged lightly, inching closer to the bed. She hadn’t realized how chilly it was in the room until he was no longer touching her, shivering slightly as she pulled her robe tighter around her shoulders. All of the amusement was gone from his face, that sad look settling in again.  
    “Well, dad was actually killed in a freak accident at the bar. You remember where he used to work?” she asked and as soon as he nodded she continued with the short tragic tale. “He was unloading beer from the delivery truck and a fight broke out in the bar. By the time he made it inside, some idiot had drawn a gun and the shot fired during the scuffle nicked his heart. The ambulance got there as soon as possible, but he just didn’t make it.”  
    “Evie-”  
    “It’s alright. You don’t have to say you’re sorry, I know you are.”  
    “Then…what about your mother?”  
    “She was always sickly. After dad died, I think her heart just gave out on her. She went a year after him.”  
    “How old were you?”  
    “Nineteen? Something like that…”  
    He sat up all the way on the bed, patting the comforter next to him and she found herself not even second guessing the implications of the gesture as she slid onto the bed next to him. There was an awkward moment when her leg brushed against his pants and she found herself instantly flinching away from him, pulling her knees up against her chest to take up as little space as possible.  
    “So, leather huh?” she muttered, nodding toward the jacket on the floor. “Are you some kind of male model or something now?”  
    “No way, it just looks cool as hell. And it’s pretty resilient too, when people aren’t attacking you with box cutters.”  
    “I am sorry about that, but you scared me.”  
    He shrugged lightly, learning down to scoop the jacket up off of the floor, inspecting the cut in the leather above the left shoulder. It was a small cut, easily repaired, but he looked at it as if the entire thing was now ruined and he would have to somehow acquire a new one.  
    “You know, I could patch it up for you. For free,” she added, tilting her head to the side.  
    “Free?” he asked, glancing over at her.  
    “Yeah. You said something about it being costly to repair. I could do it for you, since I was the one who ruined it.”  
    “Whatever.”  
    He passed the jacket over to her slowly, watching her intently as she turned it over in her hands to examine the tiny knick. It was easier to ignore the way he was staring at her if she had something to occupy her mind. It wouldn’t take much to fix the slit, just a little bit of patience.  
    “Evie, why didn’t you just leave after your parents died?” he asked suddenly, causing her eyes to jump up from the cut to his face.  
    “What do you mean?”  
    “Why stay here in this demon infested town? Why didn’t you just leave it all behind?”  
    “You mean…like _you_ did?”  
    The words come out of her mouth a little more harshly than she had meant for them to, but she couldn’t hold back the irritation that suddenly bubbled up in her chest. He reached across the bed, pulling the jacket out of her hands and gripped her left hand tightly, studying the cuts on her palm. She was amazed that his hands were so much bigger than hers, if he wanted to he could have easily hidden her hand in his with little effort.  
    “I have the house to take care of, and the bar. This is my _home_ , Dante. I couldn’t just walk away from the memories here, they were all I had left,” she rambled, trying to ignore his gentle touch.  
    “What if I had come back for you? Would you have left with me, Evie?” he asked, speaking more to her hand than her in general.  
    Her heart suddenly bucked in her chest, an ache from a dream she’d had for years. Dante coming back and whisking her away to a better place.  
    “That would have been different,” she muttered, fidgeting in his grasp.  
    “And now? If I asked you to leave with me now if I asked you to?”  
    His eyes moved from her hand, his gaze paralyzing her entire body. Part of her was sure her heart had even stopped until it suddenly bucked in her chest again. She reached out with her free hand and gently pried his hand off of hers in an attempt to gain some kind of composure before she said something stupid and needy.  
    “But you wouldn’t. You’re not going to ask me to leave with you now, so don’t ask me to answer that question,” she whispered, her voice so faint she wondered if he’d even hear her.  
    He suddenly turned away from her, laying back on the bed again and she found herself letting out a shaky breath. There was her answer to that, he wasn’t there to take her away from the hell hole that surrounded them. She slid off of the bed quickly, feeling like she was somehow overstaying her welcome there next to him. The only option she had was to go to bed and try to figure things out in the morning. He was staying the night at least, she would have another chance to question him when she woke up.  
    “I can’t stay here, Evie,” Dante said suddenly making her lurch to a stop in the doorway. Was he somehow reading her mind?  
    “What?” she asked, glancing back at him slowly. He hadn’t moved an inch since she stood up.  
    “I can’t stay here. In this city. I just want you to know that before you get any ideas in your head…”  
    She opened her mouth to respond, but she found herself falling short on how to answer him. The only thing she wanted to do was ask him why he couldn’t stay, or plead for him not to leave her, but neither of those options seemed like a good path to take. She settled for silence, stepping out into the hallway without a single objection and shut herself up in her parents old bedroom. He was alive, that was what was important. That was all she could keep telling herself.  
  
     _There was something nagging at the corner of her mind. She kept tossing and turning under the blankets, her eyes cracking open ever so slightly to glance at the door before she snapped them shut and rolled away from it as if she were warring between wanting to stare at it and hating the sight of it. It was almost as if she were expecting something to happen, some kind of change in the door that would lead to something significant. But it remained shut, she counted mentally the seven different flips she’d made to look at it only to flip right back over in irritation. By the eighth flip she sat up in the bed roughly, finally settled on the fact that she just couldn’t sleep._  
 _As she sat there, gripping her sheets tightly, her eyes drifted back to the door, gasping when she realized that it was now_ open _. Hadn’t she just looked at the damn thing and it was still closed? Slowly she pulled the blankets back away from her legs and swung them over the side of the bed onto the floor. There was a distant sound of locks clicking open and she realized that it had to be Dante. It was hardly even light outside and he was already leaving?_  
 _“Dante?” she croaked, lurching up from the mattress and rushed out into the hallway._  
 _The light in the hallway downstairs was on and as her feet drummed down the steps she caught a glimpse of a boot vanishing around the corner of the wall that separated the front door from the hallway._  
 _“Dante, don’t leave!” she pleaded, rushing around the wall, greeted with her front door hanging wide open._  
 _She could see where the sun was already starting to break over the horizon, flame red streaks of light echoing over the sky line as if it were on fire. The front gate was swaying slightly as if someone had just walked through it and she found herself rushing out onto the porch and down the front path to try and catch up with him. As she glanced up the street heading back into town, there was no indication that anyone had just been on it in the first place. There was no possible way he was that fast, was there?_  
 _“_ Evelyn _…”_  
 _The name echoed in her ears suddenly, causing her to whip her head around to glance down the other direction of the street. She hadn’t been called Evelyn since her grandmother passed away. Everyone had always called her Evie. She couldn’t describe the feeling in her gut that lead her out of her front yard, pulling her bare feet down the cold sidewalk and across the street to the house that had say vacant for years. No one was interested in buying the devil murder house._  
 _There was still faded caution tape clinging to the doorframe, the murders were still technically unsolved. The front door had been shut for longer than she cared to remember, but now it was hanging wide open, the caution tape sliced right down the middle in clean razor like cuts. How many nightmares had she had about walking back into that house? About seeing the blood and carnage that had taken place without a single witness. Leaning through the doorway, she glanced around at all of the dust covered debris laying everywhere. No one had been in the house in ages, but it had become sort of an attraction for children trying to prove that they were brave. She’d caught the neighborhood kids playing games late at night where they would send a kid up to the front door and they had to knock three times. If after knocking, they could stand on the porch for five minutes without running away or getting eaten by whatever demon had kill Dante’s family, they were considered cool and brave. Till that day, she had yet to see one child complete the task…_  
 _“Dante?” she called out, stepping thought the front door slowly._  
 _Who else would have been brave enough to waltz right in? She found herself hesitating as she navigated the shards of glass and shattered wood. She could hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing overhead and assumed that Dante was going through his old things. It never once occurred to her that maybe she should have left him alone to visit his past, maybe he’d wanted to be left alone. She couldn’t help but notice that despite the fact that she was sure she heard someone upstairs, she couldn’t see any other footprints aside from her own as she climbed the stairs._  
 _The hallway was exactly the same as she remembered it. Thick claw marks dug into the walls and the shattered photo frames littering the floor. There was a soft sort of rustling noise coming from the back room where the boys usually slept. As she passed the office on the right she glanced inside to see the desk was flipped over against the wall where they had pulled Vergil out. Even through the dust, she could see the black stain of his blood covering the floor. Continuing down the hall she couldn’t even bring herself to look into their mothers room where she had found Dante and forced herself forward to the back room._  
 _“Dante? Are you in here?” she whispered, poking her head into the room._  
 _She had been in Dante and Vergil’s bedroom once or twice before. They had two twin sized beds on opposites sides of the room, sharing the nightstand that sat under the window between them. Dante’s bed, as usual, was a mess. Blankets and pillows tossed all over the place while Vergil’s bed looked like he’d never slept in it a day in his life. Neatly pressed comforter tucked in with great care and precision. And that was all there really was to the room. Dante, or anyone else for that matter, was no where to be seen. The rustling noise had ceased and she was completely alone._  
 _Tossing her hands in the air she let them drop back to her sides with an exaggerated groan and slowly turned on her heel to leave feeling utterly stupid. She jerked to a sudden stop as she came face to face with a pair of steely blue eyes. The man was wearing a long blue jacket, his snowy hair spiked up on his head and she knew instantly that the man she was looking at now was not Dante. No matter how similar they were, it was easy for her to see the difference._  
 _“What are you doing here?” he growled, reaching up to grab her by the neck._  
 _“Vergil?” she gasped as he jerked her out of the room into the hallway._  
 _Pain prickled over her bare feet as he pushed her up against the wall through the shards of glass on the floor. Even though she had the undying urge to clamp her eyes shut out of sheer fear, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. The deadpan look on his face was haunting, the hate in his eyes unmistakable. It wasn’t until he leaned closer to her, bringing his mouth so close to her ear that his breath made her trembled, that she clamped her eyes shut as she awaited whatever it was he was going to do._  
 _“Well, isn’t this…interesting,” he muttered, and she could feel him smirking against her cheek._  
  
    A sudden bang jolted Evie upright in her bed. She was panting heavily, grasping at her neck where the feeling of Vergil’s cold fingers still lingered. Her eyes flew to her feet which were still stinging with pain, horrified to see the shards of blood coated glass embedded into the soles of her feet.  
    “Evie? You alive in there?” Dante’s voice called, followed by another loud bank on the closed door. “Or do I have to drag you out of bed?”  
    “N-no! I’m up,” she gasped, scooting toward the end of the bed slowly. “Just getting changed!”  
    She sat staring at the doorknob praying that her excuse was enough to keep him from barging in. There was no way for her to explain her feet and she didn’t think telling him the truth would get her anywhere. _Yeah Dante, I had this crazy dream about your old house and your dead brother and I woke up with glass in my feet._ That would go over really well.  
    “Whatever, see you downstairs,” he sighed and she could hear the sound of his boots on the stairs.  
    Taking a deep breath and holding it, she glanced back down at her feet to asses the damage. She nearly choked when she saw that her feet were completely clean, not a spec of blood or glass anywhere.  
    “What the _hell_?” she muttered to herself, reaching down to feel her feet.  
    For a moment she just sat there staring at them in disbelief. Part of her brain could still recall the sharp sting as the glass punctured her skin, the slick feel of her blood on the dust covered floorboards. Vergil’s cold eye’s and warm breath. Shaking her head furiously she stood up and dove into the bathroom to relieve her bladder and brush her teeth. It had to be the shock, there was just no other explanation for it. Like her mind was trying to create a distraction from the horrors she had seen the night before and she couldn’t help but think it was doing it’s job a little _too_ well.


	6. I Said NO Olives!

    Had it really been eight _years_? Dante found himself wondering how he could have stayed away for so long from the old house he had once thought of as a second home. Aside from a slight furniture rearrangement, not much had changed. Evie’s old bedroom felt like some kind of distant memory brought back life. He hadn’t realized it before he heard her voice that everything from that time in his life had completely faded into the back of his mind. He had been content to forget the entire experience just to avoid the confusion. To Evie he had _died_ , how was he suppose to explain how he was magically alive now? If she knew the truth she would freak out on him.  
    It hadn’t been his intention to ever even see her face to face while he was in town, but when she foolishly walked into the alleyway by herself, he really had no choice in the matter. Playing dumb hadn’t worked in his favor either. He knew that there would be no way Evie _wouldn’t_ recognize him. They’d spent the better part of six years running around together. And then for him to be suddenly murdered in the middle of the night…that was something no one would be able to ever forget. He couldn’t remember much about that day and really didn’t care to revisit it, but Evie, she had been reliving the nightmare every day. He could tell by the horrified look in her eyes the night before that whatever she _had_ seen was haunting her.  
    After a sleepless morning, Dante swung his long legs off of the bed, running his fingers through his hair to make it lay flat and made his way to the bathroom. He made a quick pit stop outside of her parents old bedroom door, listening for any sign that she was awake. All he could make out were soft sighs every now and again and decided it would be better to let her sleep. Making his way downstairs Dante immediately went for the fridge to find something to eat. Anything had to be better than the feeling of his stomach trying to digest itself.  
    “Really, Evie…” he groaned, noting how there was nothing in the modest refrigerator aside from bottled water and a few condiments.  
    The freezer was stocked with portioned meats and vegetables, but he not only had no clue to do with the stuff, he didn’t have the time. He was hungry _now_. Grumbling he dove back into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, eyeing a stack of junk mail on the end of the kitchen counter as he stood back up. There was no harm in peeking at someone’s junk mail, right? Cracking open the cap, he leaned forward and flipped through the various flyers until he came across one for a local pizza parlor.  
    “Jackpot,” he grinned, pulling the sheet free from the pile and searched around the kitchen for a phone.  
    He didn’t have much faith in a place named “Carl’s” but he was willing to give it a chance at the risk of starving to death. The man taking his order seemed irritated as Dante repeated that he wanted no olives, twice, but he couldn’t have cared less what the asshole was thinking. After he hung the phone back on the wall he glanced around the kitchen for something to occupy him while he waited for his food to arrive.  
    A photo hanging on the wall just outside the kitchen caught his eye, pulling him forward out into the hallway, tilting his head this way and that to study the picture. It was Evie with her parents. She was taller than he remembered from his younger days, but shorter than she was now. This had to be taken sometime after the incident. Even though she was smiling, there was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes that he recognized from the night before. He should have known her life wouldn’t be easy after he “died”, but he just couldn’t force himself to come back until he had no choice.  
    He walked slowly down the hallway glancing at all of the pictures that lined the walls. Evie growing slowly before his eyes, turning from an adorable teenager to the curvy woman she was now. He’d always thought she was pretty, but now that he was older, pretty didn’t seem like enough anymore. Now, she was just plain gorgeous. Even though he had told her he couldn’t stay, he knew he was going to have a difficult time trying to leave _without_ her.  
    A light knock on the front door pulled him out of his thoughts, his stomach growling loudly as if it knew food was just on the other side of the door.  
    “Yeah, I hear ya,” he sighed, patting his bare stomach lightly as he moved to unlock the door.  
    It took him longer than he liked to unlock all of the deadbolts, nearly ripping the chains off of the door to pry it open. There on the front porch stood a blond teenage boy that looked like he needed to have a very serious talk with a dermatologist. He jerked back away from the door as soon as he saw Dante, almost if he had been expecting Evie herself.  
    “After-noon…” the kid muttered, gazing up at him with wide eyes.  
    “What?” Dante snapped, holding his hand out for the pizza.  
    “N-nothing. It’s just, this is Miss Evie’s house.”  
    “And you’re a master of the fucking obvious. Gimme my food.”  
    He snapped his fingers lightly and the kid nearly jumped as he reached up to pull the pizza out of the warming bag. As soon as the box was in his hands Dante moved to shut the door only to be stopped by the boy slamming his hand on the door.  
    “You gotta pay me dude,” he demanded, trying to peek into the house past him.  
    “Shit, that’s right…”  
    He was so used to adding it to a tab at his usual place back home that the thought of paying the kid never crossed his mind. Balancing the pizza box in one hand he reached behind himself into his back pocket. _Empty_. His eyes fell to the little table perched next to the door that Evie had dropped her keys and wallet onto the night before when they first walked in. With every intention of paying her back, someday, he reached down and wiggled a twenty out of the purple wallet and handed it to the kid.  
    “See ya,” he muttered, snapping the door shut in his face without even waiting for the change. All that mattered was his stomach.  
    Sitting at the kitchen table, Dante counted the minutes as they ticked past wondering just when Evie was going to emerge from her room. After eating nearly half of the pizza, having to pick off a thousand olives, it was well after two in the afternoon. Maybe checking on her wouldn’t be such a bad idea. What if she was huddled in a corner somewhere in her room? Abandoning his half eaten forth slice of pizza in the box he pulled himself up out of the chair with a heavy sigh. He hoped she wasn’t having some kind of breakdown, he wouldn’t know what to do.  
    Dante silently pulled himself up the stairs, pausing for a brief moment when he heard a gasp escape from her room. His first thought was of course to barge right in thinking she was in danger, but the gasp was quickly followed by a quiet sob. He reached out toward the door and slammed his fist on it roughly to catch her attention.  
    “Evie? You alive in there?” he shouted, struggling to keep from flinging the door open and settled for hitting it one more time for good measure. “Or do I have to drag you out of bed?”  
    Her answer came quickly enough to cease the dread that had formed in the pit of his stomach. Even though she insisted she was changing he could tell he’d woken her from a dream, he just couldn’t decided by the sound of her panicked gasp if it was a bad dream, or a really _good_ dream.  
    “Whatever, see you downstairs,” he sighed, having to force himself to walk away from her door. Whatever thoughts that were developing about her he would have to forget. To keep reminding himself that she wouldn’t understand the truth.  
    Back downstairs he sat listening contently to the sound of her rushing across her floor, out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Part of him wondered if she had been scared that he would just take off on her in the middle of the night by the way she was rushing to get to him. When she nearly flew into the kitchen he had to do double take as she dove into the fridge to grab her water from the night before.  
    “I thought you said you were changing?” he muttered, his eyes plastered on her body without reserve.  
    She was still dressed in the same clothes she had changed into after her shower, the white silk robe doing little to hide the short black shorts beneath.  
    “Changed my mind…” she groaned standing up slowly, forcing him to remove his eyes from her bottom.  
    As soon as she turned to face him she narrowed her eyes at the pizza slice he had resumed eating, taking a sip of her water.  
    “Pizza? For breakfast?” she questioned, running the back of her hand over her lips.  
    It took him a great deal of effort to move his eyes up her body without lingering too long the things he greatly appreciated, locking eyes with her and shrugged.  
    “What’s wrong with pizza for breakfast? And technically it’s past two in the afternoon. Lunch,” he demanded, warring with his darker half on where to settle his eyes.  
    Evie wasn’t by far the most well endowed female he’d run into over the years, but there was something about the way she didn’t even need to wear a bra that sparked his interest. Had she always been _that_ curvy?  
    “Alright, I’ll give you that. Mind if I have some?” she asked, moving forward to sit in the chair next to him.  
    “Sure, you paid for it after all.”  
    “ _What_?”  
    “Yeah, sorry about that. I already ordered the pizza and when it got here I realized my wallet was missing. So I jacked a twenty from yours. You left it on that table by the front door.”  
    “You just… _stole_ money out of my wallet?”  
    “Is it _really_ considered stealing if I told you I took it?”  
    “Yes.”  
    Even though her voice sounded irritated he could tell by the look in her eyes that she really didn’t mind. He had a feeling that she wouldn’t have cared if he’d robbed her blind as long as it was him doing it.  
    “I’ll pay it back…” he added, shoving the half empty box toward her.  
    She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself as she pulled a slice from the box and to his immediate surprise…started picking the olives off of it. When she realized that he had done the exact same thing by the pile of discarded olives in the box, she blushed lightly and took a small bite to avoid talking to him. It had been years since he’d seen her and he was amazed at how incredibly adorable she was being as she ate. It was possible that it was just due to the fact that he was staring at her, but she took small bites, her wounded handed perched in front of her mouth to hide any possible mess from him.  
    “When did you become such a dainty eater?” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair grinning at her.  
    “Hm?” she mumbled, swallowing the bite. “What do you mean?”  
    “What’s with the hand? You afraid you’re going to drop it?”  
    “No, it’s just…polite.”  
    Snorting lightly, he leaned forward, reaching out to pull her hand away from her face. Using the excuse of examining her cuts just to touch her again, he found it amusing when she blushed an even deeper shade of red as his fingertips brushed over her palm lightly. She hadn’t been this bashful when they were younger and he was partly eager to know what she thought of him now to cause such reactions.  
    “You put anything on these?” he asked, watching her face instead of looking at her hand.  
    “N-no, not yet,” she mumbled, having a hard time finding something to settle her eyes on that wasn’t him.  
    “Well don’t you think you should? Keep it from getting infected and all that?”  
    He jerked her hand lightly, pulling her eyes back to his face, laughing when she yelped slightly. She didn’t seem to like being toyed with and ripped her hand out of his roughly.  
    “Well, don’t you think you should put on a damn shirt before you catch a cold?” she snapped and it hit him. She was so flustered because he was _shirtless_!  
    “I’ve been told it’s a crime against nature to put a shirt on,” he chuckled, holding his arms out to his sides to show off his chest. It was beyond entertaining to watch her squirm in her seat as she fought with herself not to stare at him.  
    “Stop wearing leather then.”  
    “You kidded me? Jeans wouldn’t look half as good on me.”  
    “You are really full of yourself, you know that?”  
    “You didn’t? I’ve _always_ been this way. I’m a little shocked you’re just now picking up on it.”  
    Her eye’s finally settled on his face, the blush fading as something he couldn’t quite place settled in. She tilted her head at him slightly, abandoning what was left of her pizza slice on the top of the box. There was a feeling building in his stomach that told him whatever was about to happen, it wouldn’t be anything good.  
    “No, I guess you’re right. I’ve always known you were a bit full of yourself. I guess I just assumed you would grow out of it,” she mumbled quietly. “But then again, I also thought you never got to grow up.”  
    There was a bitter edge to her voice that he should have expected, but somehow it still made him feel ashamed. He knew that he hadn’t gone about things in the right way, but at the time it seemed like the best thing he could do for her. If the demons had come after his family, what would stop them from going after Evie’s too?  
    “You know, I used to dream about you. After you-disappeared. I kept thinking you would just pop back up one day and say ‘Look Evie! Fooled ya!’ But I knew deep down that was never going to happen. And now…here you are.”  
    Suddenly she stood up from her seat, shoving away from the table to face the kitchen counter so that he couldn’t see her face. When her shoulders trembled violently he expected tears to follow, running his hands through his hair roughly. Why were women always _crying_? And more importantly, why couldn’t he just ignore _her_ like all the others?  
    “Come on Evie, don’t start this again. I can’t deal with all of this girl stuff. It wasn’t as simple as all that. I couldn’t just pick up a phone or else, I would have,” he growled, trying not to lose his temper over the situation.  
    “ _Would_ you have called? Or would you have been too busy doing whatever it is that you’ve been doing all these years? It’s not as if demons can trace phone calls!” she snapped, turning around so quickly that her robe fell open, exposing her heaving chest.  
    Slowly, Dante stood up from his chair, frowning as he closed the distance between them. He could see the breath catch in her chest as her lungs stopped expanding, moving so close to her that he could feel the heat rolling off of her skin in waves. She instantly looked down at the floor, but he reached up to cup her chin gently, raising her head until she looked up at him.  
    “What do you know about demons that you can confidently say they can’t trace phone calls? Do you chat with demons often? Do they follow you everywhere you go, killing anyone you come into contact with just to get at you? Did they kill your family, Evie?” he half growled, trying his best to control the darker half of himself as much as possible.  
    “Dante, I-”  
    “I wanted to safeguard your life and all you keep doing is giving me shit about it. I did what I thought as best for you. So stop making me seem like I’m the bad guy when you don’t have much time left with me. Got it?”  
    He could feel how stiff her body was just from his gentle grip on her chin, but she nodded anyway. It was easier than he thought not to hurt her physically, but he was sure his words probably had enough impact on her. It took him several moments to realize how close they were, Evie slowly leaning closer to him like some kind of magnet attracted to a steel bar.  
    “I have to go run an errand. You think you can stay out of trouble until I’m done?” he sighed, pulling away from her to relieve the tension between them.  
    “Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just going to do groceries then head to work,” she breathed, clamping her eyes shut now that he wasn’t commanding that she look at him anymore.  
    “Right, I’ll see you later then…”  
    Even as he was turning away, he could see how her fingers gripped the counter for support, her knees trembling as they threatened to give out on her. But he knew that he had to just walk away. If he stayed a second longer things would have gotten out of hand. Loving her…would just cause problems for them both.

* * *

 

    “Errand…who the hell are you trying to fool?” Dante muttered to himself as he shuffled down the empty street.  
    Despite the fact that it was only around midday the place was like a ghost town aside from the occasional passing car. It was almost as if the town had just withered and died. Most of the shops had boarded up windows, obscene graffiti painted over every available surface. The near constant gray haze that settled over everything was just downright depressing. It was why he’d hated the place when they first moved in. _Before_ he met Evie. But it was quiet, or at least that’s what they had thought. Even though he hadn’t been back since the attack, he was certain the city had gone to shit right after.  
    According to the information he’d been given, demons were now flocking to the tiny city for some unknown reason. Their strings being pulled by some higher ranked demon that wanted to stay out of the action for the time being. He had tried his damnedest not to take it personally, it was just another job. Go in, kill the demons, and get the hell out. But part of him knew he was being naive. He could still remember the phone call that drug his lazy ass out of his office all the way back to his childhood home. The way his heart stuttered hearing how the nests were too much for one devil hunter alone to eradicate…  
  
     _The sound of the phone ringing echoed around the room in a deafening chorus. That was what, the seventh call back to back? Who the hell couldn’t take the hint? If he hadn’t answered it the first time, he sure as hell wasn’t going to answer it now. Dante lay face down on his tattered old couch, the stale smell of old blood and dirt seeping into his nose. He was shirtless with only his holsters strapped across his back, rolling his head to the side to glare across the spacious room at the ringing demon. For the briefest moment he considered just blowing the damn thing right off of the desktop, his hands flexing involuntarily for his guns, and then the ringing stopped._  
 _Groaning, he lifted his head and face planted back onto the stale cushion prepared to fall right back to sleep. He’d spent the better part of the day cleaning out an old lady’s filthy attic that had somehow become infested with tiny annoying little hell bats, forcing him to put several bullet holes in the roof before suggesting to the woman’s grandson that he should hire a roofer in the near future. The phone could go to hell for all he cared. Some days he managed to amaze himself with his ability to sleep just about anywhere. Half of his exhausted body was hanging off of the side of the couch, the button on his pants digging into his stomach, his lungs barely able to draw in enough oxygen through the filthy cushion to sustain life. Yet he was able to doze off. Until the ringing started again…_  
 _“God damn it!” he cursed, pushing himself up off of the couch violently._  
 _Striding across the creaky floor he ripped the phone off of the base and brought it to his ear with a scowl._  
 _“Take the fucking hint! We’re. Closed,” he growled into the receiver._  
 _“Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty. It’s about damn time you answered.”_  
 _The smooth female voice on the other end of the line caused his body to go rigid. Why was she calling him so soon? Had something gone wrong?_  
 _“What happened…” he muttered, sinking into the chair behind the desk slowly._  
 _“What happened? Nests are what happened. I’ve cleaned out four just walking into town. I know why you keep sending me to this shit hole to clean it up instead of just doing it yourself, but things are getting out of hand. That bar you told me to keep an eye on…it’s at the center of all the nests. They’re gathering there for a reason, love.”_  
 _“Shit, you can’t be serious. And the girl?”_  
 _“Working. Still, I can’t keep tailing her for the rest of her life. You’re going to have to accept that maybe it’s time for you to face your past, Son of Sparda. Or else, she’s just going to end up a pretty little stain.”_  
 _“Just shut it, alright? Keep following her and I’ll be there as soon as I can. What are you dealing with?”_  
 _“So far, just Prides. But Dante…there are bigger things on the way.”_  
 _“When aren’t there bigger demons on the way to steal some of the spotlight? Story of my damn life. I’ll be there soon.”_  
 _“Don’t forget your wall-”_  
 _Without even waiting for her to finish the sentence he slammed the phone back down onto the base and lurched out of the chair to get ready. Stripping off his holsters he pulled his red leather jacket off of the coat rack behind his desk and slid it on, strapping the holsters onto his back once more and heaved his beloved sword over his shoulder as he waltzed right out the front door without so much as a glance back._  
  
    He could still remember the strange mix of feelings in the pit of his stomach as he left his office to return to a place he had once called home. Irritation being the most prominent, but under all of that was a small shred of sadness. He tried to ignore it. To push it out of his mind before it could settle in, but as his feet paused in front of the two story house he had once lived in, the pain of reality took root and there was no shaking it. Maybe the annoying devil woman on the phone had been right. It was time to face the facts, to look his past in the face and put it behind him…


	7. The Color Red

    Dante had never been a particularly gentle person, but as he stood at the front door of his childhood home he reached carefully through the caution tape that was sealing the door and pushed it open. His impatient side urged him to just rip the faded yellow barricade out of his way, but he didn’t want anyone to know that he was inside. Evie especially. He had no trouble ducking down under the tape, his boots sliding ever so slightly on the dust covered floor. So much for being discreet.  
    The last memory Dante had in the house, everything was neat and arranged. Not a single scrap of furniture out of place. His mother had always kept a tidy home. But now it looked like a hurricane had erupted in the middle of their living room. Destruction, he had been prepared for. Stepping away from the door he closed it behind himself and shuffled forward down the short hallway toward the kitchen.  
    He couldn’t help but wonder if this was exactly the same scene Evie had witnessed when she was younger. All of the shattered belongings that meant nothing to him now, it had to be heart wrenching for her. But they were just objects. It wasn’t until he spotted a bloody handprint sweeping back into the kitchen on the archway that he froze. He took a shallow breath and stepped into the opening, taking in the terrible sight before him. The white tape outline of an adult body buried under a thick layer of dust, surrounded by shattered dishes. His mother…  
     _“Vergil! Dante! Run!”_  
    Closing his eyes tightly he tried to block out the feral snarls and shattering dishes that echoed through his brain. He hadn’t been prepared for that. For the memory of that night to snap back to life almost as if he were reliving it. His sweaty hand laced in Vergil’s as they rushed up the stairs. Of course they had wanted to stay and defend their mother, but something he could only describe as a survival instinct pushed them to run from the beasts that were no doubt ripping her to shreds. A tug in the back of his mind pulled him back down the hallway to the stairs, climbing them slowly.  
    He could almost picture Vergil demanding that they separate to confuse the beasts, shoving Dante father down the hall as he dove into the office where their mother worked from home. Dante had immediately ran for the safety of their room, slamming the door behind himself. Running his bare hand over the mangled wall, his boots crunched the glass under him as he moved forward toward the office, peering inside slowly. Vergil had died in _that_ room, his body outlined on the floor and in that moment he was alone in the world. No one would ever understand him as well as Vergil had. They were twins, linked by more than just the blood that flowed through their veins.  
    The sound of his brothers pained cries rang out in his ears, recalling how the survival instinct had vanished the instant he realized he was the only one left. He could remember the feel of the handle in his hand as he’d pulled their bedroom door open and stepped back out into the hallway to join his family in death. He didn’t want to be left alone. But he couldn’t remember anything past the glowing red eyes he had come face to face with in the hallway. Where had he ended up after that? Frowning, he peered down the hallway, searching for any signs of where he had died. His mother and brother were outlined in white tape, so where was his bodies outline?  
    Crunching more glass underfoot, Dante moved farther down the hallway headed straight for his old bedroom. It was the only logical place he could think of, certain that he had at least tried to escape his fate one last time out of sheer reflex.  
     _“Dante, please.”_  
    The sudden sound of Evie’s pained voice caused his body to jerk to a stop in the middle of the hallway, glancing back toward the stairs thinking she had somehow found him. The house was completely silent aside form the sound of his shallow breaths and heart beat. Turning his head he glanced into his mothers room. He could see the dark black smear of blood under the layer of dust trailing up under the massive bed. Small footprints of crushed glass lingering under the filth next to the trail.  
    “Evie…” he mumbled quietly, stepping into the room as he followed the blood.  
    Her footprints stopped at the edge of the bed, the blood smearing up under it and back out again. He didn’t even need to look under the bed to know that was where she had found him. The scene he imagined in his head caused irritation to burn through his limbs, his hands curling into fists out of frustration. How had she managed to stay _sane_ after that day? It hadn’t occurred to him before that moment that maybe she wasn’t alright in the head anymore. Recalling the way she had literally spaced out in front of her old bedroom window the night before, when he had asked here where she had gone in her head.  
    Deciding that it was better not to dwell on the past that he had no way to control or change, he moved toward his mothers dressed to glance over her belongings. She had been a simple woman, yet somehow hauntingly beautiful. He could recall the soft look in her pale blue eye’s when she smiled at him. There was no one in the world more beautiful than her. He absently cataloged the items on her dressed, the cherry stained jewelry box, the ivory handled hair brush, a single bottle of perfume, one tube of crimson lipstick and a lone picture frame.  
    The glass was caked with so much dust that he had to pick it up and run his fingers over the glass to see who actually in it. As soon as he uncovered the face of the man in the picture he knew exactly who it was. The blue eyes and silver hair mimicking his own so perfectly. He became impatient with his inability to clear the glass fast enough, slamming the frame down on the edge of the dusty dresser to shatter the glass. The shards sounded louder than he knew they really were as they rained down on the floor and it took him several moments to wrestle the photograph out of the frame without tearing it, staring down at the man in  purple with a frown.  
    “Thanks for leaving me a mess to clean up, old man. I appreciate it,” he grumbled to himself, turning on his heel as he set off to collect more memento’s from his shattered childhood.  
  
    By the time he made it back to Evie’s house she was shut up in her bedroom, the shower running, probably getting ready for her shift at the bar. Dante took the opportunity to hide his stack of reclaimed pictures between the mattress and box spring where he had stashed his guns while he was out. He’d taken the clips of ammunition with him, tucked into his back pockets to keep her from getting hurt if she’d managed to stumble up them. Replacing guns with pictures, Dante dropped his treasured firearms onto the bedspread, pulling the magazines out of his back pockets. Taking a quick glance around the room he realized that his jacket was gone, the holster hanging off the end of the bed haphazardly, telling him that Evie had indeed been in the room while he was out. It wasn’t as if he could really complain, it was her house after all.  
    Sighing he reached down and shoved the magazines back into his guns, turning toward the door quickly as tiny pinpricks erupted over his skin, telling him there was something in the house that wasn’t entirely human. In the doorway stood a large golden retriever, it’s coat silky and smooth, blue eyes watching him with more intelligence than he knew any animal should have. He found himself pointing his guns at the dog, a smirk forming over his lips as the beast dropped it’s head and growled ferociously at him. It was a silent invitation for the dog to do it’s worst, but it kept its distance, warning him with snarls and fur standing on end along it’s back. His smile only widened when the beast took a step farther into the room, it’s long black nails clicking on the wood floor.  
    “How are we going to do this, then? Without her finding out what you really are, that is,” he scoffed, raising his guns a little higher.  
    The distant sound of Evie’s bedroom door opening caused the dog to take a wary step back, refusing to take it’s eyes off of him. Dane found himself lowering his guns ever so slightly, waiting to see if the dog was going to back down for the time being or not.  
    “Sasha? What are you-Dante? Is that you?” Evie called, her bare feet slapping against the floor in the hallway loudly as she came closer to the bedroom.  
    “Yeah…” he called out, sighing quietly as he tucked his guns behind his back and let them fall gently to the comforter.  
    When her head poked around the doorframe he smiled softly, trying to at least pretend that there was nothing out of the ordinary with the huge dog that was ready to try and rip his throat out. Her eyes brightened when she realized it was him, moving to stand behind the dog and nudged it like a cow.  
    “Sasha, calm down now. He’s a friend…” she demanded, rocking her knees gently into animal. “Sorry, I forgot to mention her.”  
    “No big deal, when did you get a dog?” he asked, shifting down to the end of the bed to sit.  
    “Oh, she’s not really _my_ dog. She comes and goes. I guess I just feed her when she’s here and then she takes off again to whatever other home she has.”  
    “I see, you let strange men into your home that you don’t even bother locking when you’re out. Strange dogs that could have any number of diseases,” he muttered, smirking when the dog let out another loud growl. “You make it a habit of playing in traffic as well?”  
    “What? No. It’s just a dog, Dante. It’s not like she’s going to murder me in my sleep because I feed her every few days…”  
    “Hey, you never know these days. With demons lurking around-”  
    “No, no. No more of the D word. I don't want to think about it, talk about it, _hear_ about it. Last night was just a freak occurrence and I’m more than happy to just forget it ever happened.”  
    He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at her, the smile on his face wavering ever so slightly. It didn’t matter what she wanted personally. Demons were interested in her for a reason and he knew that just didn’t go away from experience. Whether she liked it or not, demons were always going to be a part of her life.  
    “You really don’t have a choice in the matter anymore, Evie. Before you know it, you’ll start to recognize more of the signs. See things you couldn’t before,” he sighed, watching as the dog finally turned away from the room and headed down the hall.  
    “Then I’ll deal with that when I get to it. For now, in my house, I don’t want to hear that word.”  
    Chuckling he raised his hands in defeat. Her house, her rules. Sooner or later it wouldn’t matter, it was just a matter or time.  
    “Anyway, I have to head to work, there’s a delivery I have to count in before the regulars roll in. Your jacket is hanging in the laundry room, I’d say give it another hour before it’s ready for wear. You can take a shower if you want and I’ll be back in the morning. Last call’s at four.”  
    “Right. I guess I’ll see you then.”  
    She nodded lightly, smoothing her hands over her jeans and started to turn down the hall. He could see that she was having difficulty walking away, raising one foot to take a step then just sat it right back down again.  
    “Something else on your mind?” he asked, standing up from the bed to walk toward the door.  
    The instant she saw him prop his arms up in the door jam she clamped her eyes shut, taking a deep breath before she opened them again, staring only at his face. She was getting nervous again and he couldn’t resist the urge to tease her a little.  
    “Just…don’t leave. Without saying goodbye first, alright? Don’t just vanish like before,” she breathed, releasing the breath she’d held in before looking at him.  
    He smiled softly, leaning forward, using the door jam as a brace to get as close as possible to her without actually touching. For a moment he just lingered there, nose almost brushing her ear to see if she would flinch away. The strong smell of citrus and some other fruit he couldn’t quite place rolling off of her skin making him almost forget himself.  
    “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, almost laughing when she jerked away from his breath and stumbled down the hall.  
    But oh the things he _would_ dream of…

* * *

 

    “Charlie, really…give it a rest,” Evie sighed, cleaning an already clean whiskey glass just to pass the time.  
    The old rickety man named Charlie had an obsession with the old jukebox at the end of the bar that had never really worked quite right since the shooting. So many things had been overturned and smashed in the fight, but she couldn’t bring herself to trash the old piece of junk. Charlie slammed his hand down on the top of the machine trying to clear the static that was blurring the old country song, but violence was only making it worse. Not to mention the static seemed to seep into her brain causing a dull throb to shoot across her brain every few seconds.  
    “Charlie, I swear if you don’t leave that damned thing alone I am going to nail you in the head with this whiskey glass,” she growled, slamming her fist down on the bar.  
    He shot her a dirty look from under his trucker hat and slowly stumbled back to his empty booth to finish his beer. On a normal night she would stand behind her bar, cleaning pointless things and listening to old men tell stories of the glory days. Back before the city was a huge nest for demons, before their wives had run out on them. Evie couldn’t really blame them, she wanted to run away too. _With Dante…_ Shaking her head furiously she tried to forget the thought ever crossed her mind.  
    Dante had made it quite clear, through his actions alone, that he wasn’t going to take her with him back to wherever he had been living for the past eight years. He’d grown into a huge tease, pushing her buttons just for a laugh. It hadn’t bothered her so much when they were younger because his teasing hadn’t been so… _intimate_ back them. Now her stupid female hormones were running wild with her imagination and he was taking advantage of it. It was hard to tell how he expected her to respond and she had decided the best answer was to the situation was to take a page out of his book. _Teasing_.  
    When she heard the distant sound of the front door opening she found herself glancing up to count the men in the bar. All seven regulars were present and accounted for. It wasn’t until she saw the worn boots and red leather jacket descending the stairs that she realized Dante had come to visit her at work. He was wearing that huge sword strapped to his back, his guns holstered and the sudden thought that maybe be had come to say goodbye caused her heart to stutter in her chest. Surely she would have more than _one_ day with him before he vanished again.  
    “You did a nice job, Eve’s. I’m a little shocked,” he chuckled, crossing the room to sit on the stool right in front of her. The shoulder of the jacket looked as if she had never assaulted it in it’s life.  
    It was hard to ignore the way all of the old men in the bar sat up in their seats, craning their necks to stare at Dante as if he had brought the plague in with him. She knew that it was just because he was someone new, but that didn’t stop her from feeling uneasy about the dark looks they were shooting at his back.  
    “It was just one tiny slice, it wasn’t like I was sewing you a whole new jacket, really,” she groaned, sitting the glass she had just finished cleaning in front of him. “What’ll it be? Whatever you want, on the house.”  
    “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can get in my pants, Evie? That’s just abusing your power as a bartender!”  
    There it was again, forward comments that she couldn’t decided were teases or an invitation. Deciding to stick to her plan she simply smirked at him, leaning down into the cooler searching through her stash of mixers. Fight fire with fire, sexual innuendo’s with sexual innuendo’s. Either he would laugh or they would end up in a very intense situation. Neither of which sounded particularly _bad_ to her.  
    “That sounds more like something you would do, not me. And besides, I wouldn’t have to waste liquor on you, you seem pretty easy without being intoxicated,” she countered, sitting a bottle of tomato juice on the bar next to his empty glass.  
    “So you think you can just slap a bottle of tomato juice on the bar and I’ll take you to bed? How do you even know if I like this stuff?”  
    “You used to drink it all the time when we were younger. I had this theory that you were just attracted to the color red, but I thought that was a pretty stupid idea back then. Apparently I was wrong about being right.”  
    “How so?”  
    “Let’s see, red leather? Strawberries, pepperoni, tomato’s. All red.”  
    Smiling he reached down and snatched up the small bottle and popped the cap off. He didn’t even bother using the glass, draining the bottle in a few gulps. She couldn’t help but chuckle at him, pulling the ignored glass back up off of the bar as he sat the empty bottle down next to it.  
    “I did do a pretty good job, didn’t I?” she mumbled, leaning forward to run her fingers over the area the slit had been in.  
    “Yeah I guess you did. Saved me a lot of trouble…”  
    “Could’ve saved yerself a lot of trouble leavin’ when you had the chance.”  
    The mans voice was unfamiliar even though she had seen his face in the bar before. He wasn’t like the other old men, in fact he looked younger than Dante despite the fact that she had seen his ID on several occasions. Dante didn’t seem at all phased by the cocky man who’d sauntered up to the bar to snap at him, his eyes locked with hers in a blank stare.  
    “You hear me, half breed?” the man shouted when Dante refused to respond, shoving him off of his stool.  
    “Hey! No fighting in the bar, you know the rules. You got a problem take it out-” she snapped, pointing across the bar.  
    The sound of a gun clicking was the thing that stopped her. Dante stood up slowly,  pulling his black gun from it’s holster and shoved it in the man’s face. The barrel fit easily into the man’s eye socket and despite the fact that she should have been upset, she couldn’t help but think it wasn’t such a bad thing for it to be there.  
    “Look you sorry piece of shit, I’m not on the job today and no one’s paid me a cent to kill you. So I suggest you go back to what you were doing before I walked in,” Dante growled, and for the briefest moment she saw the same dark look in his eyes that she had seen in the alleyway. The same look from the kitchen that morning, the man Dante had become since he left.  
    No one in the bar made a noise, for a long time Dante and the man just stood there staring at each other, the gun held firmly in place. All of the older men sat glaring at Dante and while she knew she should have been worried, that she should have hid, she just stood there staring at the black metal glistening in the low light overhead.  
    “Dante, put the gun away,” she said quietly, softly so that she wouldn’t startle him. That was all she needed, for him to shoot a man in the face in the middle of her bar.  
    “Tell him to back off and I’ll think about it. You really do keep bad company in this place, you know? I figured you would have a better nose for that kind of thing.”  
    “What do you mean, that kind of thing? These are just people Dante! Put it away, now!”  
    Two of the older men from the back of the bar stood up, stepping out of their booths slowly. She figured that they were just going to leave, too old for bar fights anymore, but they both started inching closed to Dante as if they were going to try and disarm him.  
    “See, this is where things get messy. All of you try to gang up on me, but you’ll all end up dying one way or another. Are you sure that’s what you _really_ want?” Dante chuckled, holding the black gun steady in his left hand and drew the white gun with his right.  
    “Dante! Stop this!”  
    The two men that were inching closer lunged at Dante and she instantly tried to reach out to pull the gun away from the mans face, but three shots rang out before she could get anywhere near close enough to even touch him. All three men lay on in the floor in heaps of lifeless flesh and she found herself cringing at the sight of their broken bodies.  
    “Three down, four more to go?” Dante asked, counting off the other old men in the bar who were now standing up from their seats as well.  
    Evie tried to convince herself that it wasn’t happening, that it was another vivid nightmare that she couldn’t wake herself from. But the once harmless old men that were in her bar night after night seemed to stretch before her eyes, their skin turning a sickly grey hue as if they were decomposing. The dead men on the floor were no long men, but the demon wraiths she had seen in the alleyway. It had never once occurred to her that the men that had been surrounding her every night were really demons. They had been stalking her, following her, just like Dante said they had been following him…


	8. Never Considered Myself An Ass Man

    He wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to the feeling. The fire that seemed to rise up through his limbs every time he was faced with the pitiful minions of hell that constantly seemed to stand in his way. He knew that it was just some primal instinct that was engrained in his bloodline, but it still didn’t make it any less thrilling. Sure he complained most of the time, pretended that he hated the effort, but secretly it was something he always looked forward to. Killing demons was like a pure drug that he just couldn’t get enough of. He just had to remember that for Evie, it was most likely more of a nightmare. He stood with his back to the bar, holding his guns out in front of himself, waiting for the simple creatures before him to make their move. He knew it wouldn’t take long for more of them to weave their way into the bar now that their cover had been blown. The four scythe bearing lusts that stood before him tilting their heads back and forth studying him as if they were searching for the perfect way to cleave his head off. He knew that if he wasn’t careful in timing his attacks that they might just get that opportunity, or Evie would be caught in the middle of their onslaught.  
    Smirking, he twirled the guns around his fingers, pointing them more in the air than at the demons, shrugging lightly. The red clad monsters simply watched him as he sidestepped slowly down to the end of the bar toward the old jukebox that was emitting more static than music. He had tried to ignore it when he first walked in, but now if he was going to fight, he at least wanted some kind of music to break the monotony. Pulling his finger away from the trigger, he brought his left fist down on the top of the machine, his smile widening when all the sound ceased aside from a sharp skipping of the record inside. Then to his immediate horror the song that radiated from the speakers now void of static sounded frighteningly like a county hoedown. He couldn’t help but glance back over at Evie in pure confusion and she gawked at him in disbelief, no doubt wondering how he could be more concerned about the selection of music than the sickening demons in red. Shaking his head in disappointment, he curled his finger back around the trigger, firing off a single shot into the front of the jukebox.  
     _“It kills me not to know this but I've all but just forgotten, what the color of her eyes were and her scars or how she got them. As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping, through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten…”_  
    It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but it was certainly better than the _other_ option. As soon as the upbeat music cut in he didn’t waste a single second turning on the thoroughly confused lusts. He’d taken two strides forward toward them, bounding over the disintegrating bodies of the dead prides as he tucked Ivory back into it’s holster, reaching up to pull his sword off of his back in mid-leap. He was sure he could hear Evie calling after him, but he didn’t even glance back once he’d set his sights on the demons in front of him, bringing Rebellion down over his right shoulder with enough force to shatter the booth it collided with when the lust closest to him lurched out of the way. They were weak, much like prides, but faster. A little more organized.  
    The three remaining lusts didn’t let the opportunity slip past them as his back was turned toward them, lunging forward with their scythes in an attempt to at least wound him. The first scythe aimed at his neck lodged into the wall over the demolished booth as he slipped down out of it’s range. With a hard jerk he pulled Rebellion’s blade out of the shambles twisting around to sever the lust in half as it struggled to understand where it’s target had gone. The lust that had dodged his first attack was inching dangerously close to the bar and Evie was no where in sight. Raising his gun he fired at the creature, the bullet grazing it’s shoulder, but it was enough to get it’s attention. Now the three remaining demons were focused entirely on him as he kicked up form the floor, twirling Rebellion around in his right hand with a smirk on his face.  
    “Eve’s, you good?” he called out, his eyes moving slowly over the lusts that were scowling at him.  
    “Am I good?” she shrieked and he had to remember not to laugh at her. Demons weren’t her forte. “All of my regulars are demons that could have killed me at any given time, I don’t that the qualifies as being “good” Dante!”  
    “Alright, lemme rephrase that. You hurt?”  
    “Nothing but my pride…”  
    “Good enough for me. Let’s get this over with!”  
     _“That's when she said I don't hate you boy, I just want to save you while there's still something left to save. That's when I told her I love you girl, but I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have…”_  
    The lust nearest to him shuffled backward rather quickly, launching itself across the floor toward him, bringing the blade of it’s scythe around his left side, the blade grazing his hand as he used Ebony to block the bulk of the blow. With the demon so close he was able to press the barrel of the gun to its forehead, pulling the trigger with a satisfying bang before it fell to the floor in a heap of dust. _Two more to go_. A thrill shot through him as the sound of Rebellion slicing through the air echoed in his ears even through the music, the lust he was aiming for barely avoided the attack, jumping up toward the ceiling to escape being cleaved in half. Ignoring the failed attack he continued forward thrusting the tip of his blade through the last lust on the floor, skewering it into the front bar. The force of the blow caused several glasses and bottles of alcohol on the other side of the bar to crash to the floor, shattering, followed by Evie screaming.  
    “Still good?” he muttered, slamming his hand down on the top of the bar as he climbed onto the handle of his sword.  
    “Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack!” she shouted and this time there was no holding back the laughter.  
    Using the sword as a platform he pulled Ivory back out of it’s holster, aiming both guns at the lone lust lingering in the middle of the trashed room. It didn’t seem to like it’s odds, it’s crimson eyes swirling around in their sockets over it’s fallen comrades.  
    “Looks like this party is over, pal,” he sighed, firing two shots across the room, smiling when it doubled over backward and crumbled to the floor in a lifeless pile of dust and limbs.  
    He held his pose, waiting to see if anything else was ready to pop out of the woodwork at him like they normally did. From his vantage point the could see over the entire bar, aside from the demon corpses and smashed booth, it looked like your every day hole-in-the-wall. Brushing the back of his hand across his nose, he hopped down off of his sword, landing with a thud on the floor. Tucking his guns away, he reached out to grab the handle of his sword, using all of his weight to rip it back out of the bar, the lust’s corpse sliding down the wood onto the floor with a crunch.  
    “Just nasty… Evie, let’s go,” he demanded, hooking Rebellion onto his back.  
    Her head popped up on the opposite side of the bar, hazel eyes narrowed at him as if he had somehow done something wrong. He could see the shards of glass that were clinging to the shoulders of her t-shirt, his male brain automatically dropping his eyes to her heaving chest. All in all, he couldn’t say it was a completely _bad_ experience given the outcome.  
    “What the hell! All this time? Charlie? Todd! I just can’t-and you! Look what you’ve done to my bar! I _hate_ you!” she gasped, taking in the trashed furniture and dead bodies.  
    “Won’t be the first or last time I’ll ever hear that, I’m sure. Let’s go, like now.”  
     _“I don't hate you, I don't hate you, no. So tell me now, if this ain't love then how do we get out? Because I don't know-”_  
    Before she could protest any father, he reached out across the bar and hooked his arms under her elbows, pulling her up off of the floor. She put up a small struggle as he pulled her over the bar, but quickly stopped flailing once her feet were firmly on the floor next to him. There was no mistaking the pout on her face, she was going to be stubborn. He didn’t mind for his ladies to have a little fight in them, but she wasn’t like most of the other women he knew. She was just a cute little human girl with no real defenses.  
    “Where are we suppose to go after this mess?” she demanded, stomping her foot on the ground and instantly cringed when the lust next to them crumbled into even more dust.  
    “Anywhere but here, unless you wanna meet more of their friends.”  
    She glanced around for a moment, probably considering leaving her families lively hood behind, or her very life. It didn’t take her long for her to wave her hands at him, ushering him to lead the way and he was thankful he wouldn’t have to drag her out into the night. The last thing he needed was a cop to happen by as he drug a struggling girl down the street. Reaching down he snatched her hand up in his and marched toward the stairs, barely pausing for her to step over the corpses as he trudged right through them without a care in the world.  
    The air outside of the bar wasn't any better than it had been inside. Though it was slightly more chilled, it felt charged to him. Like static electricity curling around his entire body, making the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand on end. Evie struggled behind him to match his long strides and while he knew he should have slowed down for her, he couldn't risk putting her in any more danger. Out in the open they were prime targets for an onslaught of other demons to attack and from any angle possible. He could take the abuse, her not so much.  
    "D-Dante! Wait, where are we going? The house is that way, remember?" Evie gasped when she realized he was leading her _out_ of town.  
    "Oh, I remember. By now they'll have tracked your scent back to the house. It's better if we just keep moving forward," he whistled, trying to appear less concerned with the possibility of another attack than he really was.  
    "Forward? You mean like, away? We're running away!"  
    "Call it a tactical retreat. Sounds more manly. I don't know if you've noticed this, sweetheart, but you're not exactly the demon killing type."  
    "There are things I need out of that house, Dante! You can't ask me to leave without letting me go home one last time-"  
    He stopped short on the sidewalk, the momentum she had gained trying to keep up slamming her into his back with a loud grunt. Dropping her hand he turned to look at her, eyes scanning her entire body and savoring the way she shivered at his scrutiny.  
    "You got clothes on your back?" he asked quietly.  
    "Well obviously-"  
    "Money in your wallet?"  
    "Yes, but-"  
    "Then what is in that house that is more important than your life Evie?"  
    She gawked up at him in irritation as he reached out to brush the shards of glass from her shoulders. He could feel the tiny stings as they cut into his skin from the action, but he dismissed it, knowing they would heal before he could even wipe the blood away. And then came the face. Her lips formed a tight line on her cute little face, her eyebrows pressing together in anger as her arms crossed over her chest, blocking his view. In one final display of defiance she raised her left foot and stomped it on the ground. She was determined to stay put. Smirking, he took a step back away from her, holding his hands up in defeat.  
    "Alright, I get it. You're a lady, don't like to be manhandled. My bad. I don't care if you walk on your own as long as it's in that direction!" he chuckled, pointing toward the bridge in the distance.  
    "Dante, I'm not-"  
    "Woman, I will carry you the rest of the way. Your choice."  
    "You wouldn't."  
    He took a small step closer, reaching out toward her slowly, indicating that he most definitely _would_ if she didn't get her ass moving. There was a spark of panic in her eyes as she realized he wasn't playing games with her. One way or another she was going over that damn bridge.  
    "Dante, don't!" she squeaked as his hands closed around her hips, jerking her closer to him.  
    "Watch your head!" he laughed heaving her up over his left shoulder stomach down, wrapping his arm around the back of her knees to keep her from kicking him in the gut as she flailed.  
    He could feel her fists slamming into his lower back as he turned toward the bridge, whistling again as he started walking. He'd forgotten just how tiny she really was, her hip bones digging into his shoulder in an odd, yet alluring way. He found himself gazing sideways at her ass perched not even an inch from his head. _Best. Idea. Ever._  
    "Put me down! What are you- are you staring at my ass? Lemme go!" she shrieked and he tightened his grip around her knees to keep from dropping her when she landed a well placed jab at his kidney.  
    "Now, now, you're going to make me drop you. Or I could just re-adjust my grip. I don't think you'll appreciate either one," he warned, sliding his hand from her knee up the back of her thigh and she squeaked.  
    "I'll walk! Just put me down!"  
    "You lost that privilege when you decided to act like a three year old. I thought girls were suppose to mature faster than boys?"  
    "You _can't_ be serious!"  
    "Oh I am. Dead serious in fact. Actually I am enjoying the view. Try not to ruin it for me ok? I just saved your life again, after all."  
    She flailed again in a vain attempt to punch him in the back of the head. Just like he had warned her, he had to adjust his grip to keep from dropping her head first onto his sword, his hand sliding up, gripping her ass firmly to keep her steady.  
    "Let go of my ass or I will shoot you in the damn foot!" she screeched, her hands fumbling with the nearest gun she could reach in his holsters.  
    "Just remember the end with the hole in it is where the bullet comes out. Wouldn't want you to shoot yourself in the face."  
    There was another small jerk in her body causing him to hold on even tighter and she suddenly went limp against him. He wasn't sure if she was admitting defeat or if she had somehow passed out. He hadn't thought that all the blood flow to her brain would be a problem, but maybe he had been wrong.  
    "What'sa matter? Giving up that easily?" he asked, patting her bottom lightly to get her attention. "You know, I've never considered myself an ass man. You should know you've changed my perspective on that."  
    "You're such a pig..." she muttered, her elbows digging into his back as she tried to prop herself up.  
    "Not the first time I've heard that either. Look, I tried to get you to go on your own and you were being stubborn. Time is a factor, you know."  
    "Where are you taking me? Can you at least tell me that?"  
    "To my office."  
    "For how long?"  
    "Until it dies down around here. I didn't realize you would be such a demon magnet. Say, you wouldn't happen to be a virgin, would you?"  
    Her body went rigid under his hands, her elbows vanishing from his back as she made another dive for his guns again. Of course he knew the answer without her needing to say it. He'd known it the moment he first ran into her in the alleyway. The cuts she inflicted on herself right after hadn't helped at all either. She was like a walking billboard for demons. Virgin sacrifice ripe for the taking! There was a loud growl that radiated somewhere in the back of his mind as his darker half agreed to alleviate her of that burden.  
    "What!" she snapped.  
    "It's just, demons are attracted to that kind of thing. There's a reason they always use virgin sacrifices in the movies, Eve's."  
    "I am _not_ -"  
    "Lying is a sin, I'd choose your words carefully if I were you. I would hate to see you burn in hell for all eternity because you were too ashamed to admit you've been a _good_ girl."  
    "I swear, as soon as you put me down I am going to kick you so hard in the di-"  
    "Anyway, I told you I couldn't stay in that city, didn't I? And you never gave me a straight answer about leaving with me if I asked you to. So I took that as a yes. You'll like the office...it's, spacious."  
    "And you really expect to walk all the way there? Can't we take a cab like, I dunno, normal people?"  
    "You want me to tell you how many cab drivers I've seen that are actually demons?"  
    "Spare me the heartache."  
    "Will do. Besides, it's not that far..."  
    She let out a soft sigh, her elbows returning to his back as she struggled to keep herself as upright as possible. The only sound that was left in the night were his boots scraping over the pavement and the metal of his weapons gently clinking together. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was suppose to say now that the silence had settled in between them. Part of him was sure she would have had more questions for him. Not that he would have any real answers to give her, but the lack of curiosity on her part was slightly unsettling. With a quiet sigh, and a great deal of protest from his other half, he slid his hand back down to the back of her knees shifting her slightly to make her a little more balanced on his shoulder. She muttered a short thanks under her breath that he was sure he shouldn’t have heard and ignored it, staring down at the ground as the pavement turned to metal grating under his feet. He knew that it didn’t matter how far away he took her, they would follow, but it at least bought them time. Time to rest and plan, time to just exist without bullets flying through the air. Time to explain…  
    “Here we are…” Dante sighed, as he cut the corner on the opposite end of the bridge, making a short trek down an alleyway before he stopped outside the doors of his office.  
    He could feel Evie twisting her body to see where they had arrived and slowly let her slide down off of his shoulder to her feet. She stood next to him, gawking up at the old building in awe. At first he didn’t understand what she was so awestruck over, he had said it wasn’t a far trip. It wasn’t until she turned to face him that he saw the anger in her eyes that had flared up.  
    “You…can’t be serious! _This_ is where you’ve been for the last eight years? _Right_ across the damn bridge?” she growled.  
    “Well…mostly. Yeah.”  
    “Right across the bridge! Dante! This is fifteen minutes from my house! _Walking_!”


	9. I Ate Kibble!

    The only word she had to describe the building before her was condemned. As in it should have been. Most of the windows past the second story were boarded up or just plain broken. There was a neon sign posted over the door that she couldn’t quite read considering it was turned off and the moon was no where to be found in the sky.  
    “ _This_ is your office?” she breathed, trying to hold back the second wave of anger that had welled up.  
    “Devil May Cry! Home sweet home. It’s not much, but it’s mine. Don’t hesitate to make yourself at home,” he chuckled, climbing the few steps to pull open the doors.  
    They looked heavy, metal and old, groaning as he pulled on them and quickly vanished inside. Evie found herself hopping the steps, almost tripping to slide through the doors before they groaned shut. It was a little more than obvious by now that Dante was stronger than the average man and she had a good feeling if those doors had closed before she made it through, she wouldn’t have been able to pull them open so easily. Inside the building was no better than the outside. As he had said, the office was spacious and that was about it. Dante was standing just inside the doors, clicking on a switch that barely illuminated the room.  
    The wooden floors looked practically ancient. The only specs of furniture to be seen were a pool table to her left, an old decrepit couch beyond that, an antique desk and chair, and an old jukebox in the far right corner of the room. There was an old rickety fan hanging in the middle of the high ceiling that looked as if it would have a better chance of just falling to the ground than actually circulating the air. Frowning she watched as Dante marched across the room to the desk, pulling off his various weapons as he went. Propping his sword up against the wall, he dropped his guns in their holster onto the desktop next to a precariously stacked tower of old pizza boxes and peeled off his jacket, shaking it out slightly before he threw it at the coat rack a few feet away from his desk.  
    “Don’t tell me the only thing you eat is pizza, Dante. And why are these just stacked up there? Haven’t you ever heard of a trash can?” she demanded, pointing at the stack as she moved closer to the pool table.  
    “I’ve been busy. And if you recall, I’ve been away for the past two days…”  
    “Two days? That’s a _weeks_ worth of pizza!”  
    He shrugged his shoulders dramatically, collapsing into his chair as if he were completely exhausted. And maybe he was. After  killing all of those demons in her bar, how could he not be?  
    “I can’t believe you… All this time you were _right_ here,” she hissed, scooping up the cue ball off of the top of the pool table to occupy herself.  
    “Do we have to go through this again? Remember what I said this morning in the kitchen? Things just aren’t that simple Evie…”  
    “I remember what you said perfectly. It’s just if it were me, I couldn’t just abandon you like that. If I _knew_ you were so close, I wouldn’t be able to stay away.”  
    Rolling the cue ball between her hands she peered over at him timidly. He propped his elbows up on the desk, dropping his chin into his hands and started over at her with that sad, yet serious expression of his that made her heart quiver.  
    “You think so? You think if we traded places that you could just trot right over that bridge, knock on my front door and say, _‘Hey Dante, I know I supposedly died or whatever, but I just wanted to pop over and say hello, possibly bringing hordes of demons in my wake in the process.’_ that’s totally what I should have done. I’m such an ass for not thinking of it _sooner_.”  
    She couldn’t help but frown at him as he mocked the situation, but she knew he had a point. Still it didn’t make it hurt any less. The ache in her chest made it hard to breathe, remembering all those sleepless nights when she had wished for him thinking he was gone forever. Only to find out he’d been just out of her reach the entire time. And he knew it.  
    “You don’t think I didn’t consider that? Shit Evie, we were practically connected at the hip when we were kids. There are a lot of good memories of those days. Not only was I afraid I was going to drag demons into your life, I didn’t know how you were going to react to seeing me after all those years. For all I knew, you could have had some kind of mental breakdown and gone crazy! Like I need to add _anymore_ guilt to the long list of shit I have to live with.”  
    She instantly opened her mouth to ask him to elaborate on exactly what that was suppose to mean, but quickly retreated from that idea. No doubt he meant the guilt of being the only person in his family to have survived the demon attack. She had seen all of their lifeless bodies and yet somehow Dante was the only one who had survived? If Vergil had lived he would no doubt be at his twin’s side, just as had always been when they were younger. And if not, did that mean he had really died?  
    “Stop with that face already, would ya?” Dante snapped, cracking a smile. He obviously didn’t care to linger on depressing issues for very long. “How about we just go back to where I was groping your ass? That was _much_ more fun…”  
    There was no holding back the wave of anger and embarrassment that slammed into her, instantly chucking the cue ball across the room at his face. After everything that she had seen him go through she was certain he would just dodge that attack, watching as the ball shot across the room and slammed directly into his jaw. Horror shot through her as his hands flew up to his face, the cue ball hitting the floor with a loud thud. Slowly she covered her mouth with the hand she had used to throw the ball, staring wide eyed at him as he dropped his head to the desktop.  
    “Damn it woman! I was _just_ joking,” he snapped, hissing loudly as he rubbed his hands across his face gently where she couldn’t see him.  
    “I’m so sorry! I thought you would-”  
    She took a small step closer to his desk, her entire body freezing when he sat up suddenly, pulling his hands away from his face. She had expected there to be blood everywhere, but all she could see was a small red mark on his jaw and a blinding smile.  
    “Gotcha!” he cackled, holding his sides when he nearly toppled over laughing.  
    Dropping her arms to her sides she started over at him with the most blank expression she could muster, deciding it was best to just let it go. There was no sense in getting worked up over it. Dante was just Dante and nothing she could do was going to change that.  
    “Does this abandoned building at least have a bathroom so I can go puke?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips.  
    “Up the stairs past the fire escape,” he chuckled, jerking his thumb toward the door on the left side of the room.  
    “Oh, a fire escape? So I won’t have to worry about burning to death. Just tetanus?”  
    “Among other things…”  
    She rolled her eyes, crossing the room to the stairs and slowly started to make her way up. Each step creaked as she climbed them, the rail was nonexistent which really wasn’t that shocking given the state of the rest of the building. Finding the bathroom wasn’t really all that challenging even though she missed the previously mentioned fire escape. She spotted a white towel laying halfway out in the hallway from an open doorway on the left the of the short hallway. Peeking into the room she found that it was indeed the bathroom and it was more than obvious that it belonged to a lazy man.  
    The towel wasn’t the only shred of laundry out of place. There were several more towels spilling out of the overturned hamper in front of the toilet, a black shirt dangling off of the shower curtain rod and what looked dangerously like a pair of silky red boxers laying on the floor in front of the tub.  
    “So he _does_ own a shirt…” she gulped, reaching down to pull the towel off of the floor so that she could shut herself in the bathroom.  
    Instead of just dropping the towel onto the floor with the rest of the discarded laundry, Evie found herself sitting the hamper upright before she tossed the towel in, scooping the others into it just out of sheer reflex. It wasn’t until she nearly reached for the boxers that she stopped herself. Standing up she gave the bathroom another glance, taking in the cracked tiles in the shower and the aged porcelain pedestal sink. Despite the fact that everything in the bathroom looked unkempt, the only thing she could smell was the overpowering scent of soap. The faucet was old, rust spots dotted along the area where it connected to the sink, a steady drip falling from the tap. The sound of it was almost hypnotizing as she stood staring at her reflection in the old chipped mirror. Her cheeks were flushed again, her heart pounding so hard that she could feel it in her fingers and toes. But unlike the last time she had seen Dante kill demons, she didn’t feel like actually throwing up. She just needed a moment to collect her thoughts. A second to clear her head and calm down.  
    How many times was she going to have to remind herself not to badger him about never coming back? He had his reasons and after two demon attacks in two days, she knew he wasn’t just bullshitting her. The last thing she wanted was another repeat of their argument in her kitchen. _Unless he’s close for a different reason…_ Shaking her head roughly she tried to erase the memory of his body so close to her. The feel of his hand on her butt still lingering almost as if it had burned into her very flesh. Now was _not_ the time to have perverted thoughts about him. She needed to be more concerned with why she had been surrounded by demons for longer than she cared to remember. They were suppose to be following Dante, not _her_.  
    “I ate kibble for you, bastard!” a woman shouted causing Evie’s head to snap toward the door.  
    Without even trying to be discreet she reached over to rip the door open, her shoes drumming back down the hall. She took the steps down two at a time despite her fear of their stability and nearly fell off of the last step into the office.  
    “That’s not very nice,” Dante muttered before turning to glance at her. “Here we go. Evie-”  
    Out of the corner of her vision she could see Dante’s lips moving, but she couldn’t hear the words that were pouring out. All she could focus on was the blond woman standing in front of his desk with her hands propped on her narrow hips. She was tall even without the high heel boots, the black leather pants she wore were like a second skin. And to make matter worse, she was wearing nothing more than a black corset strapped around her torso that was having a very difficult time containing the ample breasts she had. She was gorgeous and it occurred to Evie the moment she heard a female voice to be jealous. Except this woman looked _exactly_ like his mother.  
    “Miss…Eva?” Evie whispered, the shock evident on her face.  
    The woman raised her eyebrows at her, crossing her arms over her chest as if she were somehow irritated with Evie’s reaction to her. Dante slowly climbed up out of his chair, making his way over to her with a frown on his face.  
    “Didn’t you just hear what I said? This is Trish, she’s a friend. _Not_ my mother,” he demanded, dropping his hands onto her shoulders.  
    It took her a moment to pry her eyes off of the woman, glancing up at Dante in pure confusion. How could he expect her to believe that she wasn’t his mother when the two looked identical? The only difference between the woman in front of her and the Eva she knew as a child was this woman’s choice in clothing.  
    “Trish?” she squeaked, peering over at the woman again.  
    “Yeah. That’s what he said. Are you hard of hearing, girl?”  
    “Trish, don’t be a bitch. This isn’t easy for her to understand,” he muttered, steering her toward the couch. “Look Evie, I know it’s hard to believe, but she’s not my mother. Or a dog. She’s actually a demon.”  
    “A dog? A _demon_?”  
    “Yeah, you know, you really should get some better pet food…” Trish sighed, reaching up to flip her long hair off of her shoulder. “And Sasha is a stupid name.”  
    “Wait, you mean _she_ was my dog? All of bar regulars were demons, my dog was a demon, is there anything _else_ you’re not telling me Dante?”  
    There was no way to ignore that he and Trish shared a look that meant there was probably a lot more he hadn’t told her, but even though she had asked, she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know given the circumstances.  
    “You know what,” she sighed heavily, flopping down onto the couch. “ _Don’t_ tell me. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear another thing about demons, I hate them. They just ruin everything they touch.”  
    Dante frowned slightly, stepping back away from the couch with his arms crossed over his bare chest. She could hear Trish scoff at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually look at the woman without feeling entirely freaked out.  
    “Well, I can assure you most of them feel exactly the same way about you,” Trish muttered and Evie found herself suddenly overrun with irritation again, glaring up at the busty blond. Dante was right, this woman was definitely _not_ his mother.  
    “Wait, let me see if I got this straight,” she demanded. “You’ve been living in a run down building for like, ever. And I had that _bitch_ coming in and out of my house for the last three years?”  
    Dante held a hand out in front of his face, counting off fingers before he nodded lightly.  
    “Sounds about right. I had to find a way to keep an eye on you without actually being there, you know? No one was going to notice one more demon running around in a city full of demons,” he muttered, shuffling back over to his desk.  
    Shaking her head roughly she fell back onto the couch, prepared to just pass the hell out and try to deal with all of the craziness in the morning. But as soon as her back hit the cushions she yelped in pain, sitting back up to glare at the couch as if it had bit her. It took her a moment to spot the sharp looking scrap of metal that was sticking out between the cushions, reaching down to pull out the crushed beer can between two fingers.  
    “Great. So much for avoiding tetanus,” she growled, glaring over at Dante.  
    “You don’t wanna sleep there anyway. The sheer amount of demon blood-”  
    “Eh, EH! No more! Where _can_ I sleep?”  
    “End of the hall on the right. You can take my bed, I’ll be up for a while anyway…”  
    For a split second she was a little apprehensive. Sleep in Dante’s bed? But more importantly, leave Dante alone with the busty blond copy of his mother? Despite the fact that she didn’t think Dante would sleep with her, it didn’t stop her from feeling jealous. She wanted to stay awake with him. Alone. In his bed. Forcing herself up off of the couch, she shuffled toward the stairs again to avoid being awkward in front of them. Trish was already watching her like a hawk.  
    “Anyway, I’m going to clear out. Take a little break now that I’m not babysitting anymore. You think you can handle one little human on your own?” Trish asked as soon as Evie vanished into the stairwell. She had a good feeling that the woman knew she was still listening by the way she said human.  
    “Yeah I got it. Call me if you run into anything strange,” Dante sighed.  
    “What’s the point? It’s not like you’d pick up the damn phone anyway…”  
    Evie didn’t move until she heard the blond woman’s heels clunking across the floor, the heavy doors groaning open and closed again as she reached the top of the stairs. She found herself hesitating outside of the door at the end of the hall, her hand trembling above the handle until she heard the distant sound of billiard balls crashing together. She just needed to calm down and relax. Letting out a soft sigh she pushed the door open and stepped into his room. Red and black certainly seemed to be the theme…  
    His comforter was a deep maroon color, the pillow cases and sheets pitch black. The bed frame certainly looked like it had seen better days, but it was at least standing. There was a single nightstand next to the left side of the bed, the drawer hanging halfway open and she didn’t even attempt to sneak a peek, afraid of what she might find. Slowly she sat down on the left side of the bed where the blankets were already pulled back as if Dante had just rolled out of bed and pulled off her shoes. For a moment she thought it was going to be weird sleeping in his bed, but as soon as she flopped over onto the pillows her eyes started to droop. Just being in his bed made her feel that much more safe.  
  
 _She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the bed she was laying in somehow felt hard and cold. So much so that she felt like she was sleeping outside on the sidewalk instead of the warm soft bed she had remembered laying down in. Frowning she pulled her legs up against her chest trying to contain what was left of the warmth in her body, forcing her eyes open to see where the hell she was. The wall she was staring at was obviously not part of the same building she had fallen asleep in. Dante’s office was run down, but this was downright in ruin. Large chunks of stone littered the floor just inches in front of her face, fallen from the what looked like the largest wall she had ever seen in her life._  
 _She sat up quickly in shock, looking all around to discover she was laying in the middle of a wide empty hallway. The cathedral like ceiling seemed forever away, parts of it missing allowing faint beams of moonlight to shine through. She quickly scrambled to her feet, her socks doing little to block the cold that was radiating off of the stone floor into her feet._  
 _“Dante?” she called out, trying not to panic when her voice echoed all around her._  
 _The only thing that popped into her mind was this was exactly like the dream she’d had of going back into Dante’s old house where she had ran into Vergil. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening. Forcing her limbs to move, she took a small step toward the nearest end of the hall, a large carved wooden door cracked open just wide enough for her to slip through into the dimly lit room. It reminded her oddly of an office. There was an ancient looking desk sitting on the far end of the room by a large stained glass window, several old thick books stacked on top of it. A few feet in front of the desk sat an elegant looking day bed upholstered in blue’s and gold’s. As she moved closer she cold see there was a massive fireplace that took up nearly the entire wall in front of the day bed, the fire burning softly as if it were slowly dying. Practically frozen to the bone, Evie lunged forward, sitting on the edge of the daybed facing the fireplace, sighing happily when the warmth started to thaw her limbs. Now that she was comfortable she took another glance around the room, spotting a few bookcases along the wall where the door was, reaching all the way up to the ceiling that was significantly lower than out in the hallway._  
 _She was amazed that even though everything in the room like an old relic that was about to crumble to ash, it was somehow elegant compared to Dante’s office. And for whatever strange reason, it made her feel frightened. She suddenly longed for the lumpy couch and drippy faucet in the bathroom. For Dante’s warm bed, not the hard as a rock daybed under her. Just for Dante period. It doesn’t feel right being here… Taking a deep breath she leaned forward, closer to the fire to try and warm herself a little more before she left the room in search of a way out. A soft thud behind her caused her to wheel around, glancing back at the desk thinking that a book had somehow fallen over. But there next to it stood a tall figure she was sure hadn’t been there when she walked into the room._  
 _The shirt he was wearing was strange, almost like a vest, sleeveless, and armor like. The black pants look vaguely familiar, but what caught her eye was really his hair. Silver strands hanging down in his face over his eyes so that she couldn’t really see him looking at her, even if she could feel his eyes practically brushing her skin. She wasn’t sure if it was just the normal chill in the room or his gaze, but it suddenly felt like the fire wasn’t enough to warm her anymore._  
 _“You’re here…” he whispered, his voice so quiet she nearly missed it._  
 _“Dante, what is going on?” she demanded, still rooted to her spot on the day bed. Despite the fact that he was there, she still didn’t feel the overwhelming sense of comfort she normally did around him._  
 _He slowly moved forward toward her, running his hand along the desk top as he moved until he knelt onto the opposite side of the daybed from her, reaching out to cup her cheeks in his hands. He was cold to the touch and she found herself trying to flinch back away from him, but he was too demanding, too strong for her to get away fast enough. His body pressed against her, forcing her back onto the curved end of the daybed. No matter how hard she pressed against his chest he refused to budge, his left hand dropping to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up slowly as he ran his cold fingers over her stomach. She tried to open her mouth to protest, but her voice was caught somewhere in her throat as his lips pressed against the side of her neck. The shock of the situation left her virtually defenseless as he pulled her shirt up over her head, laying her gently back onto the daybed before he retuned his hands to her body, roaming over every inch of her bare skin that he could touch. She shivered under him, gasping for breath each time his lips met her skin. It wasn’t until he hooked his arms around her shoulders and pulled her body up against his that she tried to fight again, pushing her hands against his shoulders._  
 _“What are you doing?” she breathed, paranoid at how his gropes had started to become more rough, almost painful as his fingertips dug into her skin._  
 _“Searching. It must be somewhere where it won’t be easily seen…” he muttered against her ear, causing her to shiver._  
 _“What?”_  
 _Just as suddenly as he had attacked her he let her go, her body dropping back against the daybed painfully, watching as he reached down toward the floor. Her eyes widened as he sat back up, holding a long Japanese sword in his hand reaching over her body to pull the blade from it’s sheath, the metal reflecting the firelight like a mirror._  
 _“I’ve grown bored with this. It seems I’ll have to find it another way,” he sighed, standing up slowly._  
 _“Dante-”_  
 _“Goodbye, Evelyn.”_  
 _Without warning he turned toward her, shoving the blade in his hand into her right shoulder. She cried out, feeling the metal pass though her skin and out of her back into the wooden frame of the daybed beneath her. It wasn’t until that moment, when he had said her name, when he had leaned forward enough to see his icy eyes under his bangs that she realized, he wasn’t Dante at all._  
  
    “No!” she shouted, sitting upright in the bed quickly.  
    The room looked blurry, not just from the sudden influx of sunlight, but from the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Her shoulder felt like it was being ripped apart, the cold metal of the blade still wedged into her flesh in pure hatred. She couldn’t stop her body from twitching, the shock of the pain far too real to have been _just_ a dream.  
    “First you bitch at me yesterday for not having a shirt on, now you’re bitching I’m putting one on? Make up your mind woman,” a deep voice sighed, causing Evie’s eyes to jump up to the figure standing at the end of the bed in front of what looked like a closet.  
    Dante was standing completely still, glancing back at her with a black shirt pulled halfway over his chest, frowning at her. She tried to speak, to ask him for help, but she just sat there gawking at him fighting the convulsions in her body for control. It wasn’t until the tears spilled over, falling down her cheeks that Dante moved, rushing around to her side of the bed to grip her by the shoulders tightly. She was sure that it would have only caused more pain in her shoulder, but the second his fingers touched her it seemed to vanish. Almost as if his very touch brought her back to a sense of reality she hadn’t been able to reach herself.  
    “Evie, what the hell? What’s wrong?” he snapped, shaking her lightly.  
    She shook her head quickly, trying to find the words to explain, but the shock of the pain feeling _so_ real still had her mind reeling. When she didn’t answer him she felt his arms pull away from her, one wrapping around her back and the other scooping up under her knees to pull her off the bed. Without even thinking she reached up to grip the front of his shirt, clinging to him for dear life as he carried her down the stairs and sat her on the couch.  
    “You want something to drink?” he asked, taking a moment to pry her hand off of his clothes so that he could stand back up.  
    Only nodding in response she watched as he vanished into a room behind his desk.  Reluctantly she looked down at her right shoulder, her t-shirt still completely intact. Taking a shaky breath she reached up to pull the shirt down away from her shoulder, frowning at the perfectly smooth skin beneath the fabric. He _had_ stabbed her, she had felt the blade tear her skin. She had felt it so vividly that she still felt nauseous. When Dante returned he only caught her attention by the sound of a can cracking open, shoving it in front of her face to pull her eyes away from her shoulder.  
    “Thank you,” she croaked, amazed that the words actually made it past her lips as she reached up to take the can without even looking at it.  
    “You mind telling me what the hell that was up there? I left you alone to sleep, just went in to get a shirt and you flip out on me. Wasn’t like I was trying to sneak into bed with you,” he scoffed, leaning against the pool table in front of her with his own can.  
    “No, I don’t want to talk about it,” she breathed, bringing the can to her lips and took a sip. “Ugh! What the hell, this is piss in a can!”  
    She glared down at the can in her hands, reading the label of the cheap beer she’d never even heard of before she gawked up at him in shock.  
    “Is it even past noon?” she asked, sitting the beer down on the floor next to her feet.  
    “It’s almost three. You were out for a little over twelve hours…”  
    “What? _Twelve_ hours?”  
    He shrugged lightly, taking a large swig of his beer, watching her out of the corner of his eye like he was waiting for her to have some kind of breakdown again. And maybe she would. Maybe her mind had finally snapped with the overload of crap that had happened in the last two days of her life. Demons everywhere she turned, her dog was a demon clone, her best friend was alive and his brother was trying to murder her in her dreams.  
    “Seriously Evie, you got a medical condition or something? Epilepsy maybe? Probably should have told me if there was a medication back at your house that you needed to, I dunno, live?” he hedged, refusing to drop the subject.  
    “You really want me to talk about what happened up there?” she demanded, frowning up at him darkly, unable to believe she was about to ask the next question in her mind if he said yes.  
    “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to talk about it.”  
    “Alright fine. You want me to talk about it. Tell me Dante, where is Vergil now?”


	10. Purpose

    He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was as he heaved himself up the stairs toward his bedroom, nor did he quite care. After spending most of his night lounging around, he’d fallen asleep sometime around dawn and was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing off the hook. _Again_. The idiot old woman on the other end of the line didn’t quite understand him when he told her he wasn’t the kind of exterminator that killed termites, causing him to spend the better part of what felt like hours trying to get his point across before he finally lost his patience and hung up on her. Sure it was rude, the lady was someone’s grandmother, but she just wasn’t getting the damn message. He was certain she would just call back, but as he lingered outside of his bedroom door there was nothing but silence in the office. He couldn’t explain to himself the strange hesitation in his body as he grabbed the handle to his door, trying to will himself to just push the damn thing open already. _But…what if she’s naked? What if she-_  
     _What if she, what? Open the damn door and go in anyway. Since when has the thought of a naked female ever bothered you before?_  
    Rolling his eyes Dante slowly pushed the door open keeping his eyes on the floor. He hated when his darker half had a point. It made it all the more difficult to ignore. The thought of Evie being naked in his bed shouldn’t have phased him in the slightest. If it were any other woman he would have jumped at the opportunity. After all, shy and modest were two words that he could never use to describe himself.  
    Ignoring the odd sense of uncertainty that welled up in his chest, he forced himself to look up at the bed. There was no denying the wave of disappointment that washed over him when he saw her curled up on his side of the bed…fully clothed. _Well, that was anticlimactic…_ Even from the doorway he could see how she was shivering, her knees pulled up against her chest like a child. Groaning he shuffled up to the end of the bed and jerked the comforter over her.  
    “You really are a pain, Evie,” he sighed softly, turning toward his closet to grab a shirt.  
    It was then that he saw what time it really was thanks to the alarm clock sitting on the end of his dresser, almost two thirty in the afternoon. He wasn’t sure if it was just her strange schedule or something more that allowed her to sleep so much, but he couldn’t help but notice she was sleeping even longer than _he_ did some days. The only thing he could figure was that she was mentally exhausted. It was easy to forget sometimes that she hadn’t lived the life he had. There were days he wondered if he’s ever see something that would actually get to him. Since the attack on his family, nothing seemed to even turn his stomach anymore.  
    “Dante…”  
    His entire body froze, his hand gripping a random shirt in the closet as he waited to see if she was waking up. When she didn’t continue he found himself glancing over his shoulder, but all she had done was shift under the blanket. He turned back to the closet, pulling his shirt off of the hanger, trying to ignore the nagging curiosity that had crept up in his brain. She was dreaming about _him_? He suddenly found the task of pulling on a shirt far too boring to even focus on, staring at her out of the corner of his vision with fascination.  
    She had stretched out under the blanket, pushing her hands up almost as if she were trying to shove it off her body. But it was obvious that even though the blanket wasn’t that heavy, she was losing the battle. It would have been slightly adorable if it weren’t for the troubled look on her face. Was she trying to push him away? Or something else? It was then, as he was trying to imagine what she was dreaming about that she sat upright in the bed so suddenly that he _almost_ flinched.  
    “No!” she shouted, eyes wide with fear.  
    He couldn’t help but frown at her, wondering what the hell was going through her brain. Maybe she thought he was trying to sneak into bed with her? Or maybe she was just embarrassed that he was standing there watching her sleep. Either way he decided to deal with it in the only way he knew how : joke about it.  
    “First you bitch at me yesterday for not having a shirt on, now you’re bitching I’m putting one on? Make up your mind woman,” he sighed, watching as her eyes jumped over to him.  
    She just sat there staring at him as he pulled the shirt all the way down over his body. He could see her open her mouth, almost as if she was trying to speak, but the words never came. It was like her entire body was shaking, too violent to be cold chills, and when tears started to fall down her cheeks he thought she might actually be in some kind of _pain_. Rushing around to the side of the bed he grabbed her by he shoulders tightly, trying to see what was causing her to shake.  
    “Evie, what the hell? What’s wrong?” he snapped, shaking her lightly thinking maybe she was still stuck in her dream somehow.  
    The only response she gave him was a shake of her head which he found incredibly unhelpful. Wrapping one arm around her lower back, he hooked the other up under her knees and scooped her up off of the bed. Her hand instantly reached up to grip the front of his shirt, clinging to him for dear life. He was thankful that at least she wasn’t kicking and screaming. Not that it would have done her much good, but he was sure restraining her would only make things worse. Carrying her down into the main room, Dante plopped her onto the couch, pausing just long enough to pry her hand away from his shirt.  
    “You want something to drink?”  
    Again she only nodded her head in response, irritating him even further. Shaking his head he ducked into the kitchen, weaving around the edge of the counter to avoid knocking over the tower of pizza boxes stacked up and went straight for the fridge. He knew before he even opened the door that she wasn’t going to be happy with what he brought her, but she was just going to have to deal with it. Reaching around yet _another_ empty pizza box he grabbed the last two cans of beer out of the fridge and headed back into the main room. She still seemed to be out of it, not even looking up as he approached her. She had pulled her shirt back to reveal her shoulder, studying the smooth pale skin so intently that she only glanced up when he cracked one of the cans open for her.  
    “Thank you,” she croaked, taking the can from him.  
    “You mind telling me what the hell that was up there? I left you alone to sleep, just went in to get a shirt and you flip out on me. Wasn’t like I was trying to sneak into bed with you,” he scoffed, leaning back against the pool table to give her some space. Now that actual words were being exchanged he wanted answers. If she was having some kind of breakdown he at least wanted a little warning.  
    “No, I don’t want to talk about it,” she breathed, taking a small sip from the can. “Ugh! What the hell, this is piss in a can!”  
    He watched her glare down at the can, then up at him. Piss in a can was a little hard, but the again he had expected some kind of protest.  
    “Is it even past noon?” she asked, sitting the can on the floor.  
    “It’s almost three. You were out for a little over twelve hours…”  
    “What? _Twelve_ hours?”  
    Shrugging his shoulders he took a drink of his beer, watching her closely in case she had some kind of weird outburst again. He knew all too well that the human mind could be a fragile thing. He’d seen many people break in the face of demons, unable to handle the shock, but he had been sure Evie was stronger than that. She hadn’t been at all phased when weird things had happened when they were kids. But maybe it was just too much all at once for her to deal with properly.  
    “Seriously Evie, you got a medical condition or something? Epilepsy maybe? Probably should have told me if there was a medication back at your house that you needed to, I dunno, live?” he mused, trying to get her to actually talk.  
    “You really want me to talk about what happened up there?” she demanded with a dark frown.  
    “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to talk about it.”  
    “Alright fine. You want me to talk about it. Tell me Dante, where is Vergil now?”  
    Although he had been expecting the question to come up eventually, it didn’t stop the strange tug on his heart when she said his twin's name. Thankfully it was easy to keep the emotion from registering on his face as he stared at her overtop his beer can. He had no clue how Vergil had anything to do with whatever was happening to her, but he decided to go ahead and bite just to get it over with.  
    “That’s a good question and if you figure out the answer, be sure to let me know,” he shrugged, taking another drink of his beer.  
    She seemed honestly shocked by his response, leaning forward to scoop the can of ‘piss water’ off of the floor and took a rather large swig. He had to suppress the snicker that nearly escaped him at the face she made as she swallowed the drink, almost like she was drinking bleach.  
    “You mean to say,” she breathed, frowning up at him, “that you don’t think he’s dead?”  
    “Couldn’t say for sure. I mean, I was suppose to be dead too and here I am.”  
    She narrowed her eyes at him, swirling the beer can in her hand slowly before she brought it back to her lips and drained the rest of it in one chug.  
    “So, not only is she a bartender, she can drink to? I’m impressed,” he chuckled, sitting his half empty can on the edge of the pool table.  
    "Yeah, well I'm used to the hard stuff. I don't see how you can drink that crap," she shuddered, making a small face as he pushed away from the pool table.  
    "Well, you should have said something sooner babe. Let's see..." he chuckled, stepping closer to the couch.  
    He couldn't ignore the way Evie jerked back away from him as he leaned down reaching for the cushions. Part of him wanted to ask her if she thought he was going to hurt her, but he just shrugged it off and dove between the cushions, searching for his hidden stash.  
    "What are you-" she mumbled, but stopped short when he pulled his hand back out connected to a half empty bottle of whiskey.  
    "Trish'll throw it out if she finds it," he chuckled handing her the bottle.  
    She reached out toward him hesitantly, pulling the bottle away from him by the cap to avoid actually touching him. She didn't seem to have an aversion to the label on the bottle, screwing off the black cap and bringing the bottle to her lips to take a hearty swig. Again, she made a face like she was drinking bleach, sighing sharply as she screwed the cap back on.  
    "So what does any of _that_ have to do with Vergil?" he muttered, watching as she settled her eyes on the bottle in her hands, refusing to look at him.  
    “I’ve been having weird dreams with him in it,” she confessed, sighing softly.  
    “Like, back when we were kids dreams?”  
    “No. Recent. One in your old house and last night, I don’t even know _where_ I was. It was more like a castle, I guess. I don’t know it was just _weird_.”  
    “Well, what happened?”  
    “It’s a little difficult to explain. I mean there was a day bed, I think, and he just came out of no where!”  
    “A day bed?”  
    There was no mistaking the soft pink blush that dusted across her cheeks and it finally hit him. She’d been having dreams about Vergil, not him. _Those_ kind of dreams. He was honestly a little shocked, Vergil had spent all that time shunning her, how could she possibly like _him_? Dante couldn’t help but think that it was a little unfair. He was the one who had taken the time to set up an elaborate scheme to keep an eye on her, he was the one who had saved her life on more than one occasion, and she was having dreams about him? It just wasn’t fair!  
    “So what you’re saying is…you got it on with my brother, in your head?” he asked, trying to hide the irritation in his voice. _Pure bullshit…_

* * *

 

    There had been a point in his life when he had remembered the house being a lot larger than the structure before him. The lawn had been green and lush once, but now it lay in patches of brown and yellow decay. Even the front walkway was chipping away. It was as if the entire structure had died. The clouds in the sky hiding the moonlight and casting a black shadow over the façade like a death shroud. All that stood out to him was the garish faded tap barricading the door and the lingering scent in the air. A scent that had drawn him to the steps of his childhood home despite his disgust for the place. _Dante…_  
    Scoffing, the elder twin moved silently to the front entrance of the old house, clutching the prized Japanese blade at his side as if it were an extension of his very body instead of a weapon that he wielded. Reaching up with his right hand he wrapped it around the white silk covering the handle and flicked his left thumb up to push the blade marginally out of its sheath. To the average passerby, it would have appeared that the man on the porch hadn’t even flinched as the faded tape blocking his way simply severed of its own free will and fell away from the opening silently. While in reality he had made one swift cut to the offensive material and slid the blade back into it’s home with a soft clink. With the path clear he stepped forward into the house, his long blue coat fluttering behind him as the stale air pushed past him. The fact that the house was in ruin didn’t seem to bother him at all as he moved over the dust covered floor toward the kitchen.  
    There was almost a tangible aura that his twin had left behind, calling out to the very blood in his veins as he retraced his younger siblings steps. He hardly glanced at the outline on the floor, or the blood smeared everywhere before he turned back down the hall and headed for the stairs. He moved through the house like a ghost, headed straight for his old bedroom, trying to recall exactly how the dream had happened. He could remember seeing the girl so vividly that he nearly expected her to be standing there in the middle of the room as he stopped in front of the open door. It had been years since he had seen her, but there was just no mistaking _that_ face.  
    At first he had just dismissed it as some passing memory trying to work it’s way out of the past, creating a generic image of what he assumed the girl would look like now to mess with him. He’d spent a lot of his time trying to suppress the memories of his past, refusing to acknowledge any of the fleeting pains that came with remembering the attack. Human emotions were useless and weak. Scoffing he turned on his heel, heading back toward the master bedroom. As he passed the shattered frames on the floor he couldn’t help but notice all the pictures were missing. Dante’s scent lingered heavily in the hallway, indicating that his sentimental little brother had been the one to collect them.  
    A small shuffling noise behind him caused him to pause, glancing over his shoulder to see the demon wraith that was huddled against the back wall of the hallway in fear of him. The metal scythe gripped in it’s bony hands was lowered to the point of dragging across the floor, indicating that it had no intention of attacking him. Part of him relished the fear he instilled in the beast, while the other half was just disgusted with it’s weakness.  
    “She wasn’t there, was she?” he muttered, his voice low and cold. The wraith shook it’s head deftly, metal clinking against the wood floor as it cowered. “It would appear my little brother is dead set on keeping her away from me.”  
    Stepping into the master bedroom he ignored the trail of dried blood, moving to his mother’s old dresser to see the broken picture frame laying face up next to her belongings. It had once contained a photo of his father. He didn’t care what it took, he was going to achieve the power that was rightfully his. And despite his aversion to humans, he had a use for Evelyn and her obvious talents. Whether or not Dante realized it, she was special in her own little way and he didn’t mind manipulating that gift to benefit himself. Now it was just a matter of taking her away from him, which given her attachment to him, would not be easy. Luckily, he had no problem with using force. She didn’t need _all_ of her limbs to serve her purpose…


	11. Miss A Shot, Take A Shot?

    “So what you’re saying is…you got it on with my brother, in your head?”  
    The words hung in the air between them for a long time. Evie just sat there on the couch, staring up at him with a shocked look on her face. Out of everything that she had told him, that was the only thing he seemed concerned with. And while she knew she should have been more concerned that Vergil had stabbed her, she couldn’t help but stick to Dante’s blunt observation. Had she really had a dream about getting it on _Vergil_?  
    “No! No that wasn’t it at all! I thought he was you!” she demanded, pointing up at him with the hand that was still wrapped around the bottle of whiskey.  
    As soon as the words escaped her throat she clapped her free hand over her mouth in shock. She hadn’t meant to just come right out and say it like that! Even if it was the truth. She had thought that he was Dante, thinking that Vergil was dead, just like she had thought Dante was dead. It was all very confusing and a little unfair for her mind to be playing tricks on her like that. Vergil had never liked her, he had scared her more than anything. There was no possible way in _hell_ she could be more attracted to him than Dante.  
    “Oh, I see how it is…” Dante said with a frown. “Trying to make me feel better or something?”  
    “What? No!” she gasped, noticing that he didn’t seem at all convinced. “Look, in all fairness, the two of you look _exactly_ alike! I couldn’t see his eyes clearly and he just-pounced! I seriously thought it was _you_.”  
    "You mean you would have been able to tell that he wasn't me if you could have seen his eyes? How does that work if we look exactly the same, Eve's?"  
    "His eyes are colder than yours..."  
    Dante seemed to like the sound of that, his frown warming into a lopsided smirk that she knew was meant for teasing. She hadn't meant to let the conversation to go _that_ far, hadn't meant to tell him she thought it was him molesting her in her dreams. She might as well just blurt out that she loved him while she was at it. Stick both feet in her mouth for good measure!  
    “Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better,” he chuckled suddenly, flopping down the couch next to her, causing her to flinch slightly. “You mind?”  
    He held his hand out to her, indicating to the bottle in her hand which she hesitantly passed to him. The last thing she should be doing, given the conversation, was getting drunk with him but it really didn’t stop them from trading the bottle several times. It wasn’t until she went to grab the bottle back from him and misjudged the distance, wrapping her fingers around his hand for a split second before she realized maybe she’d had enough and instantly pulled her hand back. Dante hiked his eyebrows up, pushing the bottle closer to her and she simply shook her head no.  
    “I think that’s enough,” she muttered, speaking more to herself than him.  
    Dante shrugged lightly, bringing the bottle back to his lips as if he wasn’t at all affected by the liquor. He looked like the type of person to have a high tolerance, but she couldn’t help but feel there was something more to him than she was seeing. Something that she felt should have been fairly obvious, but she just wasn’t getting the message for whatever reason.  
    “So was that it?” Dante asked suddenly, leaning forward on his knees, staring at the brown liquid sloshing up the sides of the bottle.  
    “Was _what_ it?”  
    “The dream? Was that all it was? You mistaking Vergil for me and getting it on?”  
    “No! We didn’t even-who says that? Getting it on,” she demanded, shaking her head lightly. “He…stabbed me.”  
    Her left hand floated up to her right shoulder, rubbing it gently through her shirt as she recalled the pain with frightening clarity. Even with the haze of alcohol making her feel numb, her mind could still mimic the pain enough to make her uncomfortable. Dante sat beside her, staring at her with a frown again. It was easy to tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t really like the sound of that at all.  
    “Stabbed you?” he repeated, like he thought he had misheard her.  
    “Yes. He wasn’t in the room when I first walked in and when he appeared I called him by your name and he didn’t even bother correcting me. I was sitting on the day bed in front of the fireplace because I was cold and he just pinned me down and started kissing me! I kept trying to push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. And when I asked him what he was doing all he said was : Searching. It must be somewhere where _it_ won’t be easily seen…”  
    “Kissing? That doesn’t sound like Vergil at _all_ , the stabbing part I can believe. What was he searching for?”  
    “He never said. He just said that he was bored and stabbed me! That’s when I realized that he wasn’t you. When I woke up…”  
    Dante nodded lightly, sitting the bottle onto the floor in front of him. She figured that he would be a little more concerned with it, but he just stood up from the couch and moved over to the pool table, picking up one of the abandoned cues off of the felt and held it out to her.  
    “You play?” he asked, digging into the corner pocket with his free hand.  
    “A little, I’m not very good…” she admitted, thinking that maybe he was just trying to distract her. It _was_ just a dream, a nightmare. People had nightmares everyday.  
    Standing up on wobbly legs, Evie pulled the cue out of his hand, watching him as he moved around the table collecting the colorful balls into the triangle in the middle of the felt. In all honesty, she hadn’t played pool in so long she wasn’t even sure she remembered how to play the damn game, but it was better than dwelling on creepy dreams. Dante had a smug little smirk on his face, glancing up at her as he centered the triangle, pulling it up off of the felt to reveal the perfectly arranged balls on the opposite end of the table. _Competitive_. Dante had always been so competitive and she found herself resolving to beat him at something once and for all. It was all just a matter of focus, right?  
    “You wanna break?” he asked, tossing the cue ball in his hand aimlessly, rounding the pool table to stand by her side.  
    “Your table, you break,” she smirked, stepping back to give him room.  
    “Suit yourself. Don’t get mad when I run the table…”  
    “Oh don’t worry, I don’t have that much faith in your pool skills.”  
    He grabbed his cue off of the table, shaking his head at her as if he was disappointed by that fact, lining up the cue ball to make his first shot. She couldn’t stop herself from staring as he leaned over the table, peering down his cue, leaving her with a very nice view of his ass. She didn’t care if he and Vergil did look the same, something about the way Dante held himself made him a million times sexier. Vergil could go to hell for all she cared. Even though Dante was cocky to the extreme, he was _clearly_ the better brother, hands down.  
    She only looked up from his back end when she heard the cue ball crack into the others, glancing up to see the colors and numbers rolling all over the table in crazy directions and angles. And not a _single_ one fell into a pocket. She decided it was best not to taunt him about it, judging by the scowl on his face he was already beating himself up over it. Shaking her head silently, she moved around the left side of the table, lining up the cue ball with the bright crimson three ball, leaning ever so slightly and made a clean shot straight into the far right corner pocket. Dante’s eyes followed the shot, scowling as it clunked into the pocket and she knew he was instantly regretting asking her to play.  
    “I’m sorry, should I have called it?” she asked, trying to pretend that was the reason he looked displeased.  
    “Nah, it’s all good. Solids it is…” he chuckled, smirking up at her as if he knew a secret she didn’t.  
    Nodding she moved around to his end of the table, lining up her next shot, stopping short when she realized he wasn’t moving far enough for her to lean into the shot.  
    “You mind?” she asked, nodding to his close proximity to her butt.  
    “Not at all, go ahead.”  
    Laughing, she moved the end of the pull cue back to his knees, pushing him gently toward the couch to gain a little more wiggle room without putting her ass right into his lap. She was amazed that he didn’t put up a fight as she scooted him out of her way, allowing her to lean over the end of the table to line up the one ball into the right side pocket. Perfect shot! Maybe she was better at the game than she remembered.  
    “What was that about running the table?” she asked innocently, standing up to smile at his angry expression.  
    “You know what? Let’s make this a little more interesting,” he said, snapping his fingers lightly as he leaned down to scoop up the whiskey bottle. “Miss a shot, take a shot?”  
    “Fine, we counting that terrible break you did?”  
    He shrugged, brining the bottle to his lips and took a swig before he sat it on the edge of the table. Chuckling lightly, she moved around the table, leaning onto the table, perching her hand in the middle of the table aiming for the five ball. She was only mildly aware of Dante moving closer, assuming that he was just checking that she wasn’t moving the eleven ball under her forearm and she readied the shot. It wasn’t until a light touch brushed her thigh, running up to her butt quickly, caused her to lurch and completely miss her shot. The cue ball banked off the side of the table and landed in the left corner pocket.  
    “Dante!” she snapped, spinning around to see him holding his cue out toward her, a wide grin on his face.  
    “What? I’m over here!” he demanded, pulling the cue back closer to his body. “That was a scratch by the way. Your ‘shot’.”  
    Gawking at him she marched to the end of the table and snatched the bottle up, taking a large swig and slammed it back down. If he wanted to play that kind of game, so be it! She had her own ways of messing him up, if he didn’t take care of it himself. She stood back innocently, watching him carefully as he pulled the cue ball out of the pocket and lined up the eleven ball into the far right corner pocket. While the break had been down right pathetic, he made the shot with a precision that kind of scared her. The eleven ball shot into the pocket at a speed she was sure could have torn the felt, the cue ball banking back to hit her seven ball which in turn, knocked the nine ball into the opposite corner pocket. Now they were even, two for two.  
    Dante didn’t hesitate moving around the table to a new position, smiling at her as he leaned down and made another perfect shot into the corner pocket right in front of her, the thirteen ball vanishing as if it had never existed on the table in the first place. If he kept playing like _that_ she was going to have to step up her game, seriously. Huffing lightly, she dug into her pocket, thankful that she had remembered to tuck a hair tie away before leaving the house. Dante watched her as she pulled her hair up, his smile faltering a little as he moved closer to take another shot, aiming for the fifteen ball at the other end of the table. Evie took a step up to the edge of the pool table, running her hand along the wood as she rounded the table to the pocket he was aiming for and leaned down to smile at him.  
    Dante didn’t seem very interested in the cue ball in front of him, staring more at her as she reached up to pull her t-shirt down past her collarbone as if it were a little to high around her neck for her liking. She watched him carefully as he shook his head trying to make himself concentrate, but when he tried to make the shot the cue grazed the ball just slightly, rolling it just a few inches across the felt. He shot upright, pointing at her with a smirk on his face.  
    “All right missy, I see what you’re playin’ at,” he scoffed, picking up the bottle to take his shot.  
    “I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about. My shot, right?” she said sweetly, moving down to his end of the table.  
    “You know damn well what I mean,” he snapped, moving to the side ever so slightly to make room for her. “Playing with your shirt like that to distract me.”  
    “Oh? Like you touching me with the cue to make me jump earlier?”  
    “I did no such thing…”  
    “You’re a terrible liar and a shitty shot.”  
    Keeping him engaged in conversation seemed like the only way she was going to get a clean shot. He was actually a really _good_ shot, but it was always a good bet that poking at his ego would get him distracted long enough to land a few good shots herself. She was able to land a perfect shot on the five ball that she had missed earlier, sinking it into the side pocket, watching in triumph as the cue ball sailed across the table, knocking the seven ball in as well.  
    “What’s that?” he muttered, a warm hand brushing over her neck, causing her to jerk back away from him suddenly.  
    Thankfully she had already pulled her cue up off of the table when he touched her and she found herself instantly scooting away from him, taking the long route around the table to her next shot.  
    “What’s what?” she asked, rubbing her hand over the back of her neck where he had touched her.  
    “There was a bird, was it? You got a _tattoo_ , Evie?”  
    He seemed honestly fascinated by the fact, following her slowly around the table. She kept shifting her eyes between his face and table, trying to avoid the subject like the plague. Talk of tattoos ended up turning into showing off of tattoos, which would turn into her taking off her shirt. _Or him taking off my shirt…_  
    “Uh, yeah, I got it when I turned eighteen,” she muttered, leaning down to take her next shot to avoid looking at him.  
    “What is it?”  
    “Nothing fancy…”  
    For whatever stupid reason, the two ball she was aiming for just inches in front of the cue ball looked a million miles away as Dante slithered up to her side, leaning down over her shoulder to try and catch another glimpse of the bird on the back of her neck. She could feel his breath on her skin, causing her to slip forward, her cue striking the two ball itself instead of the cue ball.  
    “Your ‘shot’ again?” he chuckled, leaning back just in time to avoid her head slamming into his as she stood up.  
    “See? You did that on purpose!” she growled, jerking down the pool table more to get away from him than to grab the bottle.  
    “I was just curious, you can’t even say what it is? Something embarrassing maybe?” he snorted, leaning down to take a shot while she was out range.  
    “You wish…”  
    He shook his head, knocking the fifteen ball in flawlessly. She made sure to keep her distance from him, afraid that he might try to sneak another peek at her back if she let him too close. But the downfall to that was that he was hitting every shot he took. Knocking the twelve, ten and fourteen ball in without  a single hitch. All that was left was her two, four and six…and the eight ball. Which he had a perfect shot into the side pocket. If she didn’t do something, he was going to win the damn game! She waited until he leaned down to take the last shot, shuffling closer pretending to watch the shot just to get as close as possible. There was a moment when she was sure he wasn’t going to take it, staring up at her instead of lining up the shot, but once he was certain she wasn’t going to do anything he dipped his head down to focus. As slowly as possible she moved her right hand away from her cue, hovering over his back as she watched him prepare to take his shot. Taking a small glance back she plunged her hand into his back pocket, which was a little tighter than she expected it to be, twisting her fingers to grip the leather wallet the was sticking halfway out. Dante lurched forward, the cue sweeping across the table, knocking several of the balls to the opposite side of the table and effectively ruining the game as Evie pilfered his wallet.  
    “Twenty bucks, wasn’t it? That you _stole_ out of my wallet to pay for _your_ pizza?” she sighed, almost as if she was bored.  
    “What the hell! If you wanted to grab my ass you should have just said something! You didn’t have to ruin the entire damn game. I was gonna beat you!” he snapped, dropping the cue on the table.  
    “As if, you would have totally fucked that shot up, let’s see…”  
    She flipped his wallet open, leaning against the pool table to study its contents. There was an old faded business card for the office, several scraps of paper with scribbled phone numbers on them. His hand writing was terrible… And then there was his ID. She had to squint at it, reading it twice to make sure she was seeing the letters right.  
    “Anthony Redgrave? What kind of lame name is that? Don’t tell me someone actually believed _that_ was your name!” she barked, looking up at him with a smirk as she held up the ID for him to see like he had no clue what it looked like. “And what’s with the picture? It looks like a damn mug shot Dante!”  
    “I think it’s a very dashing picture, actually. And as for the name, well, if it isn’t obvious by now that I have quite a few enemies I guess I’m doing my job. There’s no money in there, sorry to break it to you.”  
    “No shit!” She snorted lightly, turning the wallet upside down and shook it to exaggerate the point before she tossed it onto the pool table. “How in hell did you plan to pay me back for that twenty then?”  
    The moment the words were out of her mouth she knew that she had made a mistake. There was no back tracking from it now, an evil smirk forming on his lips as he stepped closer to her, pulling the cue from her hands to lay in on the pool table next to his. She couldn’t force her limbs to move fast enough to get away from him before he slipping his left leg in-between hers, pressing himself so closely that his belt buckle clinked against the button of her jeans in a very alarming way.  
    “Well, let’s see, I don’t have any money. I’m only good for two things and killing demons wouldn’t exactly work in this kind of situation. Guess I’ll have to pay you back in the only other way I know how…” he sighed under his breath, leaning closer to her at a terrifyingly slow pace.  
    “W-wait, it’s not _that_ serious. I was just joking, Dante,” she gasped, panicking when he placed his hands on the edge of the pool table, effectively pinning her in.  
    “But, it’s important to pay off one’s debts, isn’t it? I mean especially to old friends. Your opinion of me means a lot to me…”  
    She found herself reeling for a moment, the dream bubbling back up in her brain without her permission, remember how Vergil had pressed himself against her in the very same dominating way. But for some reason _knowing_ that it was Dante, seeing his eye’s flickering over her, she didn’t feel a single shred of hesitation in her body. Her arms dropped to her sides in complete submission, her eyes glued to his face as his hands slid along the pool table, gripping her hips gently. She wasn’t sure how to explain the way that she just didn’t seem to care as his fingers slid up under her shirt, griping her by the waistband of her jeans and pulled her forward into his chest. She gasped lightly as his height allowed him to prop his knee up against the side of the pool table, effectively forcing her to straddle his leg if she wanted to remain upright.  
    Her hands gripped the front of his shirt when she nearly toppled over, tucking her head down to avoid the lust filled look in his eyes. What if she was just dreaming again? She didn’t think she would be able to take the heartache of waking up alone, realizing that her brain liked to do nothing more than shatter her heart. Just the thought of it caused her breath to catch in her chest, laying her forehead on his shoulder to try and make the contact with him all the more real.  
    “Evie?” Dante muttered, leaning so close to her ear that she could literally feel his lips brush her skin.  
    “This isn’t a dream, is it?” she choked, clinging to his shirt even tighter, afraid of waking up.  
    He chuckled softly, his hands sliding around her waist and up to her lower back. The warmth of him was so real, there was no possible way that she could have imagined it. But then again her mind promptly reminded her that Vergil’s cold hands had felt real as well, the pain of the blade wedged in her shoulder practically nauseating. But at least with Dante, she didn’t feel the sense of panic and terror. There was actually an overwhelming sense of security that she never wanted to fade. Without thinking, she tilted her head up to look at him, causing him to lean back away from her ear.  
    He didn’t give her any type of warning before his lips were suddenly on hers, pushing her back against the pool table again as his hands crept farther and farther up her back. Her hands slowly released their grip on his shirt, needing to be closer she reached up to wrap them around the back of his neck to hold him there. She could feel him smirk against her lips, apparently pleased with her reaction. Shifting his weight onto his right foot, he hiked his left knee up even farther between her legs causing her to gasp. Every little tiny action he made seemed to work to his advantage, her gasp allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth without the slightest bit of resistance. It was almost like he had planned the entire thing out, the pool game, the taunting and teasing. _Everything_.  
    It took her a moment of wrestling her tongue against his to realize there was absolutely no way she was ever going to win the battle, forcing her to pull back away from him just to breath properly. He didn’t seem at all pleased that she had moved away first, dipping his head down to attack her neck as his hands brushed over the clasp of her bra and very suddenly, reality came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. Her body jerked under him, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but it only served to make things worse. Dante’s knee rubbed against her relentlessly, making her take in a shaky breath, her fingers tangling in his hair just to have _something_ to hang onto.  
    “Dante wait, I-” she gasped, trying to plead for some kind of mercy. She at least wanted to make it to a damn _bed_.  
    And just as suddenly as the entire event had started it was suddenly over. Dante’s leg dropped to the floor, her weight dropping her onto her feet in front of him as his hands vanished from under her shirt with lighting speed. She hadn’t meant for him to _stop_ , she just wanted to preserve some hint of romance in the act. A pool table had not been her ideal location for a first time. But the second he pulled away from her neck, his eyes focused on something behind her, she realized that she hadn’t been the reason he had stopped at all. The look in his eyes was one that she clearly remembered from the alleyway the first night he had come back. He was on alert for some reason and the idea of demons crashing their little make out session made her both angry _and_ terrified.  
    “Dante-” she muttered, his hands reaching up to pry hers away from his neck.  
    “I’m sorry Evie, just go upstairs and wait for me there?” he asked, his voice low and almost hollow.  
    “What is it?”  
    “Just go, now.”  
    He took a step back from her, pushing her gently toward the stairs in a serious attempt to get her to leave. She’d seen enough to know better than to argue with him. She tried to make a dash for the stairs, but her legs were just too unstable from the mix of alcohol and Dante’s assertions that all she could manage was a stumbling shuffle. She had made it to the end of the old couch before the office doors suddenly groaned open, her head whipping around without her permission to see who it was that had barged into the office. If she hadn’t wished she was dreaming before, she certainly did _now_. The first and only thing she cared to focus her eyes on was the deadly looking Japanese blade the figure carried in his left hand. She didn’t even have to look at his face to know his cold eyes were studying _her_. Vergil was in fact, alive and well.


	12. Demon Blood, Human Heart

    _Vergil…_ When was the last time he had seen his brother’s scowling face? Oh, that was right, that morning when he looked in the damn _mirror_. Why did his identical twin have to be a power hungry asshole? And more importantly, why did he have the worst timing ever? It just wasn’t fair. He decided this was his punishment for not being entirely honest with Evie before he got carried away with her. Not that she wasn’t to blame a little, she had been teasing him just as much and didn’t really seem to mind his advances. Still, if she knew the truth she would-  
    “Evelyn, this is where you have been hiding?” Vergil sighed softly, sounding bored out of his mind.  
    His brothers voice snapped him out of the internal war he was having with himself. To tell Evie, not to tell Evie? He would just have to work the details out later. Vergil never did care for Dante’s style of living. It just wasn’t up to the asshole’s _fancy_ standards. The little details that Evie had given him about the place she had seen Vergil in her second dream sounded right on point with his older twin. Ancient castle in the middle of some frostbitten mountain, fireplaces, books. A _day_ bed. It was actually a little worrisome that she would have such accurate visions of his brother. Right down to the stabbing people with that precious sword of his. Speaking of swords, Rebellion was still propped up against the wall behind his desk. Halfway across the damn office.  
    “Hey there, long time no see, Verge!” Dante sighed, stepping around the end of the pool table to put himself directly between his brother and Evie, who was frozen like a deer in headlights. “What brings you to this side of town?”  
    Even though he knew that Vergil had noticed him the entire time, his older twin’s eyes settled on him for the time first time since he had barged in as if he had just realized he was there. The irritation on his identical features was more than obvious, his right hand reaching up to comb through his spiked back hair absently as if he were making sure that it hadn’t fallen out of place. He’d always been a stickler for their father’s hairstyle. Dante just found it too much of a hassle to worry about what his hair looked like. He looked damn good as it was, no need to fancy things up.  
    “Hello, _brother_ ,” Vergil muttered, his left hand flexing around his beloved blade cautiously. “I came to visit Evelyn, obviously.”  
    “I see how it is. You never write, you never call, and now you can’t even stop in to see your little brother? I’m wounded Verge…”  
    Laying his hand over his heart, Dante pouted at the scowling figure in the doorway. As usual, Vergil didn’t seem at all amused by his theatrics, or by anything really. He just stood there, staring past Dante right at what the younger twin assumed had to be Evie’s petrified face. He could tell by the way that she had looked at Vergil when he first stepped into the office that he was everything she had seen in her dreams. Refusing to look away from his twin, Dante mentally calculated how many steps it would take to reach his blade. There was no doubt in his mind that he could make it with minimal injuries, but that would just leave Vergil a clean shot to Evie.  
    “Wounded?” Vergil asked, his voice as deadpan and emotionless as always. “I will have to remember to call ahead of time in the future.”  
    Vergil took a small step farther into the room and Dante found himself moving to match his older brother’s step flawlessly. If he could just get Evie to go upstairs like he had told her to, things would be less chaotic when the fight broke out. He could practically feel the sparks of rivalry flying through the air between them, there hadn’t been a time when they had met since the incident that they _hadn’t_ fought. This time would be no different. No, that wasn’t quite right. This time _was_ different. Instead of Vergil’s anger and hatred directed at Dante, it seemed to seep right past him toward Evie. He just wasn’t sure what he wanted with their childhood friend and wasn’t about to let him close enough to find out.  
    “Well, if you’re here for Evie, you’re timing is horrible as usual. She was just about to turn in early…” Dante muttered, knowing damn well Evie wasn’t going to bed any time soon. He was just trying to get the point across for her to get the hell out of the room while she could.  
    “This won’t take long…”  
    As always, Vergil’s movements were fluid and direct. The older twin wasted no opportunity, left no room for error in every calculated attack he made. Long quick strides that carried him across the old wooden floor at a speed that would easily be missed if you blinked. He was sure Evie wouldn’t even know what was happening until after it was already over, but he didn’t have time to worry about what she was thinking. Vergil was moving left, up and over the end of the pool table, his feet missing the colorful balls crowding the corner expertly as he launched himself at her. There was no time for weapons, not if he wanted Evie to keep her head on her shoulders.  
    Rocking back on his heels, Dante turned with Vergil, sidestepping in front of Evie again to block whatever attack his brother had planned with his own body. Sure, it was going to hurt like hell, but he would live. Evie, not so much. Vergil’s right hand curled around the handle of his beloved blade, drawing it without a shred of hesitation. Dante wasn’t exactly sure what his brother was aiming for, but he had to know that no matter how sharp his blade was, it would never reach Evie through him. Reaching back with his left arm Dante shoved Evie back toward the couch, hearing her shriek as he brought his right hand up to catch his brothers blade in midair.  
    The room was still, Vergil standing on the floor right in front of him with his blade wedged into Dante’s palm nearly halfway before he had managed to twist his fingers far enough to grip the blade and stop it’s progression. A rare smile formed on his brother’s lips, causing Dante to smirk back at him in his own goofy way. He knew for a fact that if Vergil had wanted to harm Evie that badly, he wouldn’t have stopped at just stabbing him in the hand. His goal had been to wound him in front of her all along. Reaching up with his left hand he grabbed the blade just in front of his palm and pulled his wounded hand back off of the metal with a grunt.  
    “I see what you’re gettin’ at. Not like you to go through all the trouble when you could have just said it,” Dante chuckled, shoving his brother back with his own blade.  
    “You’ll have to forgive me, I find drawing your blood a much more effective way to get the point across…” Vergil stated calmly. “Or at the very least, far more entertaining.”  
    He could hear Evie’s panicked gasps tearing through the air behind him, shadowed by the shallow sound of his blood dripping off the tips of his fingers onto the floor. He knew that she just wouldn’t understand, that while it had hurt like hell, the wound was already stitching itself back together as if it had never happened. He could practically feel the tissue knitting closed. Evie’s hands reached out to grip the back of his shirt, fingers trembling as she tried to understand what had just happened. Vergil let out a disappointed sigh, taking a step back to flick the blood from his blade before he sheathed it and turned back toward the doors.  
    “It seems you will have your hands full trying to explain that,” he muttered, striding away from them as if he had never been there in the first place. “We’ll continue this another time. I will see you later, Evelyn…”  
    Dante was used to the piercing cold his brother usually left in his wake. As identical as they looked on the outside, he knew that they were nothing alike on the inside. The two of them were polar opposites, fire and ice, light and dark. And whatever other lame clichés he could think of for the occasion. And yet, as irritating as his brother was, Dante couldn’t help but feel the need to chase after him. It was like an unshakable tug on his heart that seemed to lessen whenever Vergil was actually close. If he grabbed Rebellion he could go after him and demand a better fight. He could-  
    “Dante?” Evie croaked, snapping him out of his trance.  
     _Evie…_ Turning around to glance at her, Dante instinctively tucked his bloody hand behind his back. He was never really good at explaining things and he could tell by the look on her face that she was completely lost. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her entire body shaking in fear. This was nothing like the demons in the alleyway, or even the bar. This was the first time she had seen him bleed…  
    “Eve’s, don’t look at me like that,” he griped, stepping back away from her closer to the pool table.  
    “What the hell just happened? Vergil-your hand-”  
    She took a step forward, reaching out to grab him but he leaned out of her reach, refusing to let her see his already healed hand. He could see the hurt flash across her features, but he just wasn’t ready to say it out loud.  
    “Vergil and I have never really seen eye to eye. You know that better than anyone else. Call it sibling rivalry…” he said with a shrug.  
    “He stabbed you in the hand! That’s not rivalry, Dante… You need to go to a hospital!”  
    He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at the statement. Hospitals had always been a laugh. In this situation, however, laughing about it was obviously the wrong thing to do. Evie frowned at him, tears welling up in her eyes. He couldn’t help but groan internally, he _hated_ when she cried. When anyone cried for that matter, it was just…troublesome. Flexing his newly healed hand he pulled it out from behind his back still trying to shake off some of the excess blood still running down his fingers before it dried up completely.  
    “S’all good. Wasn’t even that serious, I’m starting to think Verge has lost his edge. But then again, he was really aiming for _you_. Not me,” he muttered, frowning at his palm.  
    “Not that serious-the sword was sticking out of your hand!”  
    He saw her body tense as she reached out to grab him by the wrist, but didn’t even move to avoid her. She jerked his palm up closer to her face, squinting at his palm in confusion. He was a little amazed to see her reach up with her free hand and brush her fingers along his palm to see if she was somehow imagining the wound was gone. When once wasn’t enough to convince her, she repeated the action again, smearing blood all over her fingers in an attempt to find the cut.  
    “ _How_?” she gasped, peeking up at him.  
    “I would have figured it was a little obvious by now. Really Eve’s, you never noticed? I’m not exactly what you call… _human_.”  
    “That’s ridiculous Dante, seriously. What else would you be?”  
    “Part demon.”  
    The words hung there in the air between them, Dante staring down at her with a serious expression to make her see that he was telling the truth. She let out a nervous chuckle, smirking up at him in a way that looked almost painful. When she realized that he wasn’t joking she let go of his wrist, taking a small step away from him. This was the kind of reaction he had been dreading. While he usually acted like people’s reaction to him being different didn’t bother him, he really couldn’t stand the alienation. And for whatever stupid reason, her expression made him feel ashamed of himself somehow.  
    “Stop playing around, Dante. That’s not funny,” she demanded, glancing between his face and his bloody hand.  
    “Do I look like I was trying to be funny?” he asked seriously. “My father was a demon. Mom was human. Makes me and Vergil half-breeds.”  
    He watched her intently as she shook her head no in disbelief, like it was somehow going to change the events that had just unfolded. She probably thought it was all just another nightmare that she would wake up from. There was just no way to tell her that because Vergil had taken an interest in her, she probably never would…

* * *

 

    It was hard to believe what she was hearing. Hard to understand what it was that she had just seen, or at least, what little bits she could actually make out. When Vergil had first stepped into the office she couldn’t seem to make her limbs cooperate. The banter between the two didn’t really seem that out of place. It wasn’t until Vergil literally vanished from her range of vision that things had taken a horrifying turn. The only thing she could think of the describe what had happened was that he had somehow magically teleported across the room and stabbed Dante in the hand with that shiny Katana of his. The very same Katana he had stabbed her with in her dream. And now Dante was perfectly fine? Dante wasn’t human?  
    When she couldn’t find the right words to respond to his comment about his father being a demon, Dante just shook his head lightly and marched across the office to sit at his desk. At first she couldn’t pry her eyes away from where he had just been standing until she heard a thud that caused her head to whip around. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk top, rubbing his bloody palm. He didn’t seem at all phased by _anything_ that had happened. Anything. And while she had thought that he was a little bit different, she never suspected he was half _demon_!  
    “Why…didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked quietly, frowning over at him.  
    “Didn’t think it was important…” he admitted, shrugging again. She was really beginning to hate how he just shrugged everything off so easily.  
    “You didn’t think it was _important_? I kissed you! Were you going to tell me after that? Or ever?”  
    He looked up from his hand to blink at her like she was speaking in tongues. She felt like she could have been talking to a wall with more success. And then it occurred to her to feel inadequate. He hadn’t told her what he really was for a reason and she couldn’t help but think it was because he didn’t plan on having her around for long. Why go through all the trouble of explaining it to her when he could just leave.  
    “You were the one who said you didn’t want to hear anything else about demons, right? You said you hated them. Figured I was included…” he mumbled. “I was just trying to give you what you wanted. Does it really matter? I’m still me.”  
    She immediately opened her mouth to say that it _did_ matter, that it was something he should have told her upfront, but she couldn’t get the words out. His words kept bubbling up in her mind, every time she had bitched at him for not coming back sooner. _That’s a pretty complicated question. I couldn’t just pick up a phone or else, I would have. Things just aren’t that simple Evie…_ He had been trying to tell her all along. She had just been to blind to see what was staring her right in the face. Dante and Vergil had survived the attack because they were part demon. They were stronger and faster than she could even hope to keep up with. But did any other that _really_ matter?  
    At a loss for words, the only thing that Evie could do was retreat. She turned around slowly, purposefully avoiding the small pool of Dante’s blood on the floor as she made her way for the stairs. She needed time to think, to make sense of what exactly she felt and with Dante watching her with that blank stare of his there was no way she think clearly. It was honestly a little surprising when he didn’t try to stop her as she vanished upstairs and locked herself in his bedroom. For a long time she just stood with her back pressed against the door, listening for any signs that Dante was coming up after her. But the office was silent as far as she could tell.  
    Sleeping was out of the question, the fear of seeing Vergil again in anyway made her a little nervous about being alone period. She crawled up on the end of Dante’s bed, sitting with her legs crossed, staring at the handle intently. _Did_ it really matter? Dante had always been different, he had always been more daring that any of the other children their age. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it, passing it off as just an adolescent boy showing off. But now she realized that it was just Dante’s demon blood. Like the time he had fallen off of her roof and only sustained a minor break in his wrist. She wondered now if he had ever even actually broken his wrist or if it had healed before they even reached the hospital. The cut on his palm had healed within seconds, she couldn’t imagine a broken bone taking much longer.  
    A sudden knock on the door jerked her out of her thoughts, her hazel eyes focusing on the middle of door as she waited to hear Dante’s voice. The knock repeated, this time a little louder, almost impatient sounding. She knew that she really had no right to just lock herself up in _his_ bedroom, but she couldn’t force herself to move from the end of the bed to open it either. She had been sitting there, running through all of her memories of Dante for so long that she hadn’t even realized the sun was already setting. Dark shadows cast across the room making weird shapes that she kept imagining had eyes and limbs.  
    “Open the door, or I’ll open it by force,” a woman snapped and Evie flinched at the irritated sound. _Trish?_  
    She nearly leapt up off the bed, reaching out to unlock the door so that the stern blond woman could step inside. She had a black bag in her arms that Evie recognized from her closet back home. It looked stuffed to the brim with clothes.  
    “Dante called and ‘asked’ me to pick you up some clothes from your house,” she clarified, noticing Evie’s confused expression as she sat back down on the bed.  
    “When?” she gulped, still fearful of the woman who freaked her out to no end.  
    “An hour ago? Sorry to say, someone trashed your house.”  
    “What? My house?”  
    “The floorboards in your bedroom, to be specific. Did you have something valuable hidden in there?” Trish asked, dropping the bag into Evie’s arms and flicked her long locks over her shoulder.  
    Evie shook her head no, digging into the bag to see exactly what she had packed. A few pairs of jeans, shirts, socks, underwear. The necessities. There was no denying she was a little thankful to blond for her practicality. Maybe she wasn’t all that bad after all. For a demon.  
    “Well, Dante told me that his brother paid the two of you a visit?” she sighed, dropping onto the bed next Evie causing her to cringe away from her slightly. “He was the one who was in your house.”  
    “How do you know it was him? Why would _Vergil_ want anything from under the floorboards in my house?”  
    Trish smirked lightly, tapping the side of her nose lightly as if it should have been obvious, but Evie just sat there staring at her in confusion. Not only did she have no clue what that was suppose to mean, she was a little shocked that it was actually fairly easy to talk to the woman.  
    “His scent. Kinda hard to miss it really. Was all over your bedroom and downstairs. You’ve got blood on your shirt, by the way,” Trish chuckled, nodding at her.  
    Evie’s eyes jumped down to the front of her t-shirt to see that there was a good deal of blood splattered across her chest. Her heart lurched up into her throat, the memory of the blade passing through Dante’s palm so real that she could _hear_ the skin tearing. Her hands released their hold on the bag in her arms, letting it fall the floor as she gripped her shirt. Dante had said that Vergil was aiming for her, if she had been hit like that she had no doubt she would no longer be alive. If it hadn’t been for Dante stepping in she could have died. If it hadn’t been for Dante, she _would_ have died in that alleyway.  
    “Here, take it off,” Trish sighed, reaching down to scoop up the bag.  
    It took her a moment to remember how to work her fingers, gripping the shirt gently and pulled it up over her head. Trish dug out a plain black tank top, tossing it onto her lap before she grabbed the blood splattered shirt from Evie’s hands and stood back up off the bed.  
    “Thank you,” Evie muttered, pulling the tank top on slowly.  
    “Don’t thank me, thank Dante,” she said with a small smile, stopping in the door frame. “I know that to you, all of this must seem crazy, but you shouldn’t shut him out just because he’s a little different. Even though he’s half demon, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart, you know?”  
    Evie could only nod in response, watching Trish stroll out of the room with her bloody shirt. She thought for a moment to ask her what she was going to do with it, but that really wasn’t important. It was just a stupid shirt. Standing up off the end of the bed she stepped over to Dante’s dresser, peering at her reflection in the cracked surface. At first she told herself that she was checking to make sure there was no blood on her face, but the longer she stood there the more she realized she was trying to psyche herself into just going back downstairs to face him. He was still Dante. And that was all that mattered to her.  
  
    The desktop was covered in old pictures that she was sure hadn’t been there before. Photo’s of Dante, Vergil and Eva when they were still little. As far as she could tell there was no particular order to them, but each one was significant in it’s own way. Dante was still in his chair, feet propped up on the only empty corner of the desk, his eyes closed as he slept. She found herself glancing between the pictures and the gentle heave of his chest. As she took a step closer to the desk one set of pictures in particular caught her eye, one laying next to a picture frame that was laying flat on the desk. The one in the frame was of his mother Eva, the other the picture of a man with slicked back silver hair. While he reminded her of a mix between Vergil and Dante, she was certain that she had never seen the man before. It had to be their father.  
    Smiling softly, she crept closer still, reaching out to tap the toe of Dante’s boot to wake him up. When he didn’t move she couldn’t hold back the small laugh that bubbled up in her chest, Dante was without a doubt the most human demon she was sure she would ever see. Trailing her fingertips lightly up his leg she moved around the corner of the desk to stand next to him, stopping when her fingers reached his knee. At first it didn’t look like he was going to acknowledge her at all, his chest still rising and falling gently, but she had a good feeling that he knew she was there. So she waited, rubbing small circles on his knee, smirking when he started to fidget ever so slightly from the light touch. He cracked one eye open, staring up at her for a moment before he opened his other eye, blinking at her innocently.  
    “You weren’t really asleep, were you?” she asked softly, removing her hand from his knee.  
    “Maybe?”  
    “Is that your dad?”  
    She tilted her head toward the pictures on the desk and he nodded slowly.  
    “That’s funny, he doesn’t look a thing like you…” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.  
    “I know, right? Makes me wonder how the hell demon’s keep mistaking me for him.”  
    It was a little relieving to see him smirk up at her, sliding his feet down off the desk so that he could sit up and grab the photo of his father and the picture frame with his mother’s photo in it. She watched him quietly as he pulled the backing off the frame and laid his father’s photo behind his mother’s and closed it up again before sitting it upright on the edge of the desk. He started to collect all the other photo’s slowly, stacking them up in the top drawer of his desk before he turned in his chair to stare at her.  
    “What brings you back down here?” he asked quietly, leaning forward on his knees.  
    “I’m tired…”  
    “So? Go to bed.”  
    She shook her head lightly, reaching out toward him with a frown.  
    “I don’t want to go to bed alone.”


	13. What Kind Of Viginal Shit Was That?

    There wasn't a moment of hesitation in his brain to give her what she wanted. The look in her eyes took him right back to their little session by the pool table and the strained visit from his brother was nearly forgotten. _Nearly_. Reaching up, he grabbed her outstretched hand gently and stood up out of his chair. He refused to even breath as she stood there staring up at him, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand. She no doubt had questions. Questions that he would have no choice but to answer, even though she didn't seem too concerned with questions at the moment.  
    Turning back toward the stairs, Evie pulled him along with her, tilting her head back every now and again to make sure that he was still following, as if their hands weren't attached. He would have been lying if he said he wasn't the slightest bit relieved she hadn't hit the roof over the whole ordeal. At the time she seemed more angry that he hadn't told her to begin with, not so much that he was half demon in the first place. But he refused to let himself get his hopes up. Holes in the hand healing in seconds just wasn't normal and he expected that fact to hit her rather hard at some point.  
    It wasn't until they reached the top of the stairs that he started to actually think about what was possibly about to take place. He gripped her hand a little tighter, halting their progression down the hall. He had stopped her right in front of the bathroom, tugging her back against his chest so that he could wrap his arms around her body. The fact that she didn't resist was another hopeful sign and as much as he wanted to put his mouth to good use in other areas besides talking, he had to. They had to talk about this...  
    "Evie, I was serious..." he breathed, tucking his head down against her shoulder.  
    "I know," she whispered back, leaning back into him.  
    "Do you? I'm not a normal guy."  
    "Lazy, perverted, bad eating habits, full of yourself," she hummed, bringing a finger up to tap her chin. "Hm, sounds an awful lot like a normal guy to me."  
    He had to fight back the very strong urge to smirk and tell her he'd show her just how much of a pervert he really could be. But he was determined to be on the same page before he lost whatever little control he had left that was keeping him from fucking her through the damn wall.  
    "You know what I mean," he snorted, hugging her tightly. "I'm a demon, I-"  
    "Yeah, but just like you said, it doesn't really matter. You're still you. You're still Dante."  
    She squirmed in his grip, loosening his arms just enough to turn and face him. The smile she had settled on her lips made him feel like he should just shut his mouth and spare her all the gory details. If she hadn't gone running for the hills after the attacks and his hand, she probably wasn't ever going to. He watched her reach up, tugging on his hair rather roughly, wrinkling her nose in an adorable way.  
    "You have never been a normal guy Dante. Not the day I met you, or all those times you walked away from freak accidents. I didn't care then and I don't care now..." she huffed, pulling him closer by his hair. "I just wish you had told me sooner..."  
    "It's not exactly the easiest topic to bring up in a conversation, Eve's."  
    "So stop talking about it."  
    Stop talking he could definitely do. Leaning forward he closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. It was like nothing had changed. If anything, she seemed a little more, eager? She didn't hesitate to open her mouth for him this time, fingers combing trough his hair, holding him as close as possible as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Even with no hope of winning against him, she still fought for control, kissing him back with a soft moan.  
    Wrapping his hands around her hips, he pulled her up off the floor and turned into the bathroom. The second her feet lifted off the floor she hiked her legs up to wrap them around his waist. Pulling back, he smirked at the frown forming on her face as he sat her down on the sink and wrestled her legs away from his body. It was equally difficult to dislodge her fingers from his hair, but as he leaned over to turn on the shower she seemed more willing to cooperate with him. She sat in the sink, swinging her legs slowly as she patiently waited for him to adjust the temperature before he returned.  
    "You wanna take a shower with me...?" he asked, smiling at her.  
    "That's gotta be the single most romantic thing anyone has ever asked me..." she chuckled, reaching out to grab him by the shirt collar.  
    "What, all your other boyfriends weren't this romantic?"  
    She shrugged lightly, running her hands down his chest to the hem of his shirt and tugged up. He didn't think twice about lifting his arms to allow her to remove the useless piece of clothing, letting it fall to the floor forgotten as she reached for her own shirt. As the fabric slowly pulled away from her pale skin he found himself completely entranced. Before when she had denied him a look at her tattoo he had a hard time keeping his demon half under control. It did not like when it was denied just about anything. If he could describe it in one simple word it would have been : childish. His demon half was like a five year old throwing tantrums when it didn't get it's way. Now that it was getting exactly what it wanted, it was easy to sit back and just admire the view.  
    Evie was everything that he wasn’t. Modest, fragile… _perfect_. The way she shrugged her shirt off without a care in the world and then turned right back around to cover her body with her arms was too cute for words. It was like she was at war with herself over letting him see her body. Reaching up, he grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her arms back up around his neck so that he could appraise her. He loved the way her chest heaved with every deep breath she drew in, her hands gripping him tightly as if she were afraid he wouldn’t approve of what he saw. Leaning down slowly he pressed his lips against her collar bone, eyes rolling closed as she gasped and instinctively leaned into the touch. As he trailed his hands up her sides, fighting the urge to just to strip her of the remaining clothing, he tried to remind himself that he couldn’t just manhandle her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her…  
    He found that she had no problem allowing him free reign and his demon half practically purred at the submission.  While he had to admit that when there was a little bit of fight, it made things more interesting, with Evie he was content just having his hands on her. Taking his time was testing the limits of his self control as he trailed his hands up along her spine, kissing her neck softly as his fingers found the clasp of her bra and quickly unsnapped it. There was no mistaking the way she trembled under his fingers at the sensation, pressing herself as close as she could in a vain attempt to keep the garment on as long as possible. Moving up to kiss the side of her neck he tried to keep her distracted long enough to pull the black straps down off of her shoulders before he stood up to pull it the rest of the way off. She seemed reluctant to remove her hands from his neck, but she didn’t fight him as he ducked out of her grasp and dropped the bra on the floor in the slowly growing pile of forgotten clothing.  
    “Dante,” she muttered, quickly crossing her arms over her bare chest, blushing wildly. “The shower?”  
    “Heh, we’re getting there,” he assured her, grabbing her by the hips to pull her up out of the sink.  
    She flailed at the unexpected motion, arms flying around his neck to keep herself steady, even though she had to know he would _never_ drop her. But still, he couldn’t say that he didn’t appreciate the scenario seeing as her new position left her pressing her bare chest against his. He really didn’t want to sit her down at all and lose the contact, but if he was going to get her out of those jeans, he didn’t really have a choice. Once her feet were firmly on the floor he expected her to go right back to covering herself, but she just stood there, clinging to him for dear life. Her face was almost as red as his pants and he could tell that she was having trouble figuring out just what to do.  
    Tilting his head he tried to get a good look at her face, he trailed his hands around to the front of her jeans and grabbed the button. He half expected her to jerk away from the contact, but she just stood there, leaning back ever so slightly to allow him more access as he unbuttoned her jeans. When she didn’t object at all, he found himself pulling the zipper down, tugging the fabric down away from her hips. His patience was starting to wear thin and he wanted the clothes off _now_. Struggling to at least keep his grip gentle, he grabbed her arms to dislodge her from his neck, taking a step back from her to unbutton his own jeans.  
    He found it easier not to just ravish her if he kept his hands to himself, still watching her out of the corner of his vision as she crossed one arm over her bare chest, using her free hand to wiggle the rest of the way out of her jeans. Somehow he hadn’t been expecting the red lacy underwear she was wearing, he’d always imagined Evie to be the simple type, but it was a welcome sight none the less. Now that he was busy removing his own clothing, she seemed a little more intrigued by the situation, watching him closely as he stepped out of his jeans, smiling at her.  
    “Why are you smiling like that?” she mumbled, her eyes darting to the shower curtain to avoid making eye contact.  
    “I dunno, you just seem to be enjoying the show…”  
    Her cheeks burned a deeper shade of red, her body turning toward the shower so that she didn’t have to keep covering her chest. It was then that he finally caught his first real glimpse of her back. He had to be honest, when he saw the small bird at the base of her neck, he imagined it was going to be something small and girly. But what he was looking at seemed much more profound for some strange reason that he couldn’t quite explain. With her hair still pulled up from the pool game, it gave him a perfect view of the art work, his eyes frozen on the dark black ink imbedded in her back.  
    It was a feather. Just a feather…but done in a way that he had never seen before. The long black quill spanned almost the entire length of her pale back, the sharp tip stopping just short of her underwear. Solid black barbs reaching up to her shoulder blades before the tip of the feather suddenly started to disintegrate into small black birds that seemed to be flying away. It hadn’t been just one little black bird on the back of her neck, there were nearly twenty of them exploding off of the feather trying to find freedom. Before he realized what he was doing he reached out to brush his fingers over the feather, causing her to jump slightly.  
    "You made it seem like it was embarrassing..." he whispered, taking a small step closer to her.  
    She reached up quickly to pull the hair tie from her hair, letting her hair fall over the little portion of the tattoo it could reach. Frowning he moved closer, sweeping her hair away from her neck to keep her from hiding it.  
    "I got it to cover up a birth mark," she admitted, turning her head slightly to glance back at him.  
    "A birth mark?"  
    "Yeah, here..."  
    Her hand reached back to grab his, pulling his fingers up to the larger bird on the back on her neck. He hadn't noticed before that it was considerably larger than all the others, but now that she had drawn attention to it, it was as plain as day. Touching her skin again brought back the urgency he was having trouble ignoring. She was cold to the touch despite the steam the was quickly filling the bathroom, prompting him to pull her back against his chest to warm her up. She let out a small yelp as their bodies connected, gripping his arms as he wrapped them around her upper body.  
    Trailing his hands over every inch of her body that he could touch, he tried to whisk away the chill that was clinging to her. When his fingers came into contact with the lacy fabric of her underwear, her body arched away from him, pressing her ass right into his lap. He couldn't hold back the groan that tore out of his throat due to the sweet friction, but just as suddenly as the friction came it was gone, Evie pulling away from him when she realized exactly what she had just done. Holding back a growl of frustration that belonged more to his demon side than himself, he pulled away from her, dropping his hands to his sides. He wasn't frustrated with her, even though he knew it probably looked that way to her. Forcing a chuckle out of his mouth he looked around the room for something to break up her uncertainty.  
    "Get in the shower, I'll be right back," he whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder.  
    She turned to frown at him, probably worried that she had done something to upset him, but he just smiled and pointed at the empty towel rack. It was a lame excuse, but it gave her a moment to calm down. He didn't mind taking things slowly for her sake, he just had to find a way to keep his inpatient side under control. He waited for her to nod before he turned and shuffled out of the room, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the bedroom. _Calm down Dante... Don't ruin this._

* * *

 

    She could have slapped herself in the face. What the hell had she been expecting out of the situation? They were both mostly naked in a steamy bathroom, how could that not be arousing? Still, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from reacting the way she had, shocked by the sheer reality of what was happening. She’d never had a boyfriend before, or at least no one that was official. All of the kids in the neighborhood knew her as the girl that dated the bastard twins. And since Dante and Vergil were home schooled, they never really knew about the title. _Thankfully_. She could only imagine the figurative killing spree Dante would have gone on for people badmouthing her, let alone Vergil who didn’t like any mention of the word bastard _period_. While she wasn’t an idiot, reading things in books and seeing them in movies was nothing compared to the _real_ thing.  
    When she was sure that he was well enough away from the bathroom she forced herself to slid off her underwear, dropping them onto the pile of forgotten clothing and climbed into the shower. It took her a moment of hissing under her breath to get used to the hot spray, easing under the water slowly, letting it relax her tense body. He was Dante, no need to get so worked up. Quite frankly she had expected him to be a little more rough with her, but she was amazed when he seemed to treat her almost like porcelain doll. She wondered absently just how easy it would be for him to hurt her on accident. But when that caused a new wave of nervousness to flood her brain she quickly shook it off, holding her head under the hot water to soak her hair. Dante was not going to hurt her, well, anymore than nature would force him to anyway.  
    She almost didn’t catch the shadow looming over the shower curtain, wiping water out of her eyes just in time to see his hand curl around the edge of the divider, poking his head in slowly. She couldn’t help but blush at the way his eyes instantly roamed over her naked body, feeling the urge to try and hide. What was it about the way he looked at her that made her feel afraid, but in a good way?  
    “Can I come in?” he asked, smirking at her softly.  
    She nodded lightly, stepping as far into the shower as she possibly could just to avoid any awkward brushes as he stepped into the shower. But that was a futile attempt considering the moment he was in the shower with her she turned into a mindless idiot. Her previous misconceptions of demons being ugly, nasty, soulless creatures was obviously wrong. Dante couldn’t have been more _perfect_ if he tried. She suddenly understood why he was so damn egotistical, there wasn’t a single flaw to him. Except for the fact that he was halfway across the damn shower.  
    Taking a shaky breath, Evie stepped forward, stopping under the water again to be closer to him. They were both looking over every inch of each other that was visible, lingering in all the right places. Unsure of exactly what she should do, she stood there glancing up to meet his eyes every couple of seconds before a warm smile spread over her lips. If she kept worrying, it would only end in disaster and she had suffered far to long without him to let it end that way. Taking another small step forward, she brought her hands up to lay them against his chest, tucking her head under his chin, hoping that he understood she wanted to be as close to him as possible. His arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around her body, rough, yet gentle hands skimming down her back to her hips. It was easy to feel that he was trying to hold back the eagerness in his limbs, his grip tightening on her hips for a brief moment before he released her and repeated the action again.  
    “More relaxed now?” he chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest.  
    Nodding, she tilted her head back, placing a small kiss on his neck which was the highest point on his body she could reach without standing on her tiptoes. He instinctively leaned down toward her to give her more to work with, her lips trailing soft kisses along his jaw line before they found his again. Kissing him had been something she had only dreamed about and she was convinced that this had to be some kind trick her mind was playing on her. Nothing could have been _this_ perfect. She had to resist the urge to flinch when she felt Dante’s hands suddenly migrate to her butt, squeezing her gently. Instead she let out a surprisingly soft sigh, arching her back against him. When he repeated the action he moved his hands farther down, causing her to break her lips away from his to gasp loudly.  
    Dante seemed pleased with her reaction, grasping her ass firmly, smiling as she dug her nails into his arms in an attempt to keep herself from collapsing. It was like wherever his fingers touched he left behind a burning sensation that refused to fade. It was a feeling that she wanted more of, no matter the cost. He leaned down, finding the pulse point at the base of her neck with no trouble, nipping her gently. The feeling of his teeth against her skin sent tremors down her spine and he repeated the nip again, chuckling darkly when the shiver intensified.  
    “Don’t l-laugh at me!” she gasped, clinging to him for dear life.  
    “I can’t help it, you’re just so damn hot. I don’t know if I’ll make it back to the bed with you…” he breathed, licking at the tender skin where he had nipped her.  
    “Dante,” she groaned, tilting her head farther to the side without really meaning to. “I at least want to make it to the damn bed.”  
    “You’re right. We can shower, go to the bed, get dirty again…then get right back in the shower.”  
    She couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. It was so very Dante and she was instantly able to regain her composure, taking a step back away from him back into the water with a smile on her face.  
    “Where you goin’?” he pouted, trying to follow her with his hands.  
    “No, we’re in here to shower. You’re just going to have to calm down for a minute…”  
    “Calm down? Are you kiddin’ me? There’s not calmin’ this thing down!”  
    He pointed at himself, her eyes instantly following his finger, causing a new wave of red to flush over her cheeks as she saw him standing at full attention.  
    “We don’t need a damn bed, showers are romantic,” he protested, his facial expression too comical to actually take seriously.  
    She shook her head roughly, forcing her eyes away from his penis long enough to form a coherent thought. She had an ideal in her brain that she wasn’t going to budge from and if Dante truly cared for her, he would wait. There was no denying that her body was on the exact same page as his, the pool of wet heat between her legs difficult to ignore. A dull ache of sheer _want_ throbbing in the pit of her stomach.  
    “Dante, please…” she demanded, refusing to back down.  
    He opened his mouth to protest again, but she stared up at him willing him to understand. Very slowly he dropped his hands, closing his eyes for a moment before he reopened them with a more serious expression on his face.  
    “Alright, but we better not be in here forever. Or else I’m just gonna make this tub a bed…” he sighed in defeat, crossing his arms over his chest.  
    She smiled up at him in appreciation, reaching over to grab the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him. Even as she washed her body she kept feeling small shivers run down her spine as he watched her intently. Never in her life had she ever felt so self conscious in the shower and she prayed that after this encounter, it wouldn’t be as awkward the second time around. Then the idea of doing it again made her even more nervous. It took every ounce of concentration she had not to slip and fall on her ass in the shower as she quickly rinsed the soap from her skin and passed him the bar.  
    “I’ll be waiting…” she muttered, sliding out of the shower slowly.  
    “Oh, don’t worry, you won’t be waiting long,” he laughed, grabbing her ass again as she leaned down to grab one of the towels he’d sat on the toilet seat.  
    She squealed lightly, jumping toward the door, glaring back at him as she wrapped the towel around her body and trotted out into the hallway. Fearing that she wouldn’t even have the chance to dry herself off before he made it out of the shower she pulled the towel up over her head, ruffling her hair quickly to try and remove as much water as possible as she made her way to the bedroom. The sun was quickly vanishing from the sky, all that was left was a faint purple glow as the night sky took over, leaving the room almost pitch black. Standing in the doorway she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before she moved closer to the bed, running the towel over her body. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there in silent contemplation before the distant sound of the shower cut off, replaced with the sound of Dante’s wet footsteps making their way down the hall. Turning toward the door, she wrapped the towel around the front of her body just as Dante rounded the corner into the room. He was wearing his towel like more of a hat, water still dripping off of his flawless body. Despite the fact that he said there was no calming himself down, he wasn’t quite as worked up as he had been in the shower.  
    “We made it to a bed…” he mumbled, pointing at the mattress.  
    “I’m so proud of you,” she smirked, sinking down onto the sheets.  
    He shook his head lightly, letting the towel fall to the floor as he moved to the end of the bed and pulled the towel she was clinging to away from her body. He was obviously past the waiting, crawling up onto the end of the bed until he was close enough to kiss her. One of his damp hands snaked around her lower back, pulling her up off of the bed enough so that he could lay her on her back, never once breaking the kiss as her head fell onto the pillows softly. There was no mistaking the hungry growl that escaped into her mouth as he moved to hover over her, his left hand brushing across her stomach lightly. She felt completely helpless again, memories from the pool table flooding back to her mind as his hand trailed up her stomach, skilled fingers brushing over her right breast gently.  
    Whimpering softly, her back arched up off the bed, freeing his other hand as he finally detached his lips from her long enough to study the look on her face. She had to fight to keep her eyes open even a little, trying to understand what the look in his eyes meant. He wasn’t smiling at her, his blue eyes darker than she remembered them being, but she didn’t have the chance to ask him what he was thinking before he suddenly dipped his head down and closed his mouth around her neglected breast. She tried to cry out, but her voice caught in her throat, leaving her mouth gaping open in silent shock as his tongue swirled around the hardened bud so slowly it was like torture. Part of her wondered how she had possibly waited so long to sleep with someone, but she didn’t really need to think of the answer for very long. It was simple, someone wasn’t _Dante_. She was thoroughly convinced that it wouldn’t have felt as good if it were someone else.  
    Her hands floated up off the bed, tangling in his wet hair to hold him in place as he continued his sweet torture. Soft nips that made her body jolt under him which caused him to smile against her skin. She had to resist the very strong urge to hit him as he finally released her, sitting back to no doubt admire the view of her panting uncontrollably under him. He kept running light circles around her right nipple making her body squirm under his touch. While she tried not to think about it, it was obvious Dante had been in the situation often enough to maintain the upper hand. And while the idea of begging didn’t really have promise, the aching want throbbing throughout her body was making it difficult to hang onto to any shred of pride she may have had before.  
    “Dante, don’t…tease…” she panted, frowning at him in an attempt to look serious.  
    His smile only widened at her half-hearted demand, his hand ceasing it’s torturous circling.  
    “Tease? Me? Never…” he scoffed, leaning back down to lick at her right nipple slowly.  
    A cry actually did make it past her lips this time, body bucking up off the sheets and he chuckled at her. Unable to keep her arms up a moment longer, she let them fall to the sheets, twisting her fingers in the fabric desperate to have control over _something_. She tried her best not to squirm as his left hand skimmed down her body at an agonizingly slow pace, stopping just beneath her navel, tickling her softly.  
    “You are a tease!” she growled, frustration pushing buttons she didn’t realize she had. Maybe she was just an impatient virgin, but he was driving her crazy. _Literally_.  
    It was a little surprising to hear him growl back in response, an almost feral sound that vibrated against her wet skin, sending more spasms down her spine. His hand suddenly slid down past her hips, grasping her right thigh gently. At first she didn’t quite understand what he was doing until he released his hold on her nipple so that he could lean down and hook his hand under her knee. With a better grip on the limb, he pulled her knee up quickly and she finally caught on that he wanted her legs apart. Without even meaning to, her eyes snapped shut as she quickly clamped her legs closed, pinning his hand between her knees.  
    Everything in the room seemed to come to a complete halt. Her breath was stuck somewhere in her lungs, Dante’s hands not even twitching in place. She couldn’t understand why she’d had the reaction in the first place, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember how to move her legs once she had clamped them shut.  
    “Evie?” Dante murmured, his voice soft and calm.  
    It took her a moment to open her eyes, staring down at him in sheer confusion as to how they suddenly got into the awkward situation. She half expected him to be looking at her like she was crazy, but his face was just as calm as his voice. All she could do was shake her head, unsure of exactly what she was suppose to say.  
    “It’s ok, take your time,” he whispered, a small smile spreading over her lips. “You gotta relax…”  
    Nodding just once, she forced herself to release the breath she was holding in, trying to relax her body as much as possible. It just didn’t make any sense. Moments ago she couldn’t get there fast enough then all of sudden her body shut down on her? What kind of virginal shit was that? Taking slow deep breaths she watched as Dante laid his head on her stomach, staring up at her between her breasts like some kind of saint. It had to be hard for him to wait for her and she hated feeling like a burden to him. But he didn’t show any signs of irritation, his right hand running up and down her arm gently to try and sooth her. After what felt like hours she was finally able to relax her legs enough to free his hand and he just stayed in place, blinking up at her.  
    “You want me to stop?” he asked quietly, lifting his head off of her stomach.  
    “No, I didn’t mean to do it,” she admitted, letting out a small sigh. “Sorry.”  
    “Don’t apologize. It’s normal to be a little scared.”  
    Very lightly she could feel him flex his fingers against her knee and she instinctively moved her right leg away to give him the access he had tried to gain earlier. Somehow the act of doing it herself didn’t seem to have the same paralyzing effect of him just prying her legs apart. While his touch tickled, she was able to tolerate it, keeping her breathing slow and steady. The first brush was obviously a test, one finger running up the length of her womanhood. She squeaked lightly, but didn’t pull back away from him. Her fingers slowly relaxed their grip on the sheets as he repeated the action, moving closer toward her core with the second slower pass.  The same burning ache flared up again and she could feel her breathing spike slightly as he continued his delicate strokes. And just as soon as she was accustomed to the feeling he suddenly stopped, pressing the slick digit into her slowly. The reaction she gave was nothing like she expected.  
    He had only entered her very slightly, most likely trying to take things slow, but her body arched up off the bed at the sweet sensation, allowing his finger to slide farther in on its own. She cried out breathlessly, biting down on her bottom lip as her fingers suddenly tangled in the sheets again. Dante remained still for a moment, judging her reaction to the intrusion and when it was obvious she didn’t mind, moved in a little farther.  
    “A-ah! Dan-te!” she gasped, her body falling back onto the bed with a light huff.  
    “Well, that certainly went better than I expected it to,” he chuckled, keeping his finger steadily sheathed inside her.  
    “No…laughing,” she panted, wiggling her hips slightly to get him to move. Any kind of friction would have been appreciated.  
     Apparently taking the hint, Dante suddenly curled his finger causing a chain reaction throughout her body. The friction he was causing seemed to make the ache in her stomach worse, leaving her moaning and panting for more. She found herself pushing her hips down to somehow feel _more_. Dante wasn’t one to disappoint, pulling the finger from her body slowly before he suddenly thrust it back in, causing her to cry out his name loudly. Another growl tore out of his mouth, adding a second finger as he pulled out again. No matter how hard she tried to think of coherent thoughts, all she could focus on was the blissful feeling he was causing, writhing on the sheets in time with his gentle thrusts. The ache that had been steadily building was now almost unbearable, shaking her head back and forth on the pillows wildly, she tried to force the words out of her mouth to warn him. And then he suddenly stopped. Letting out a low whine she lifted her head to stare down at him in confusion.  
    “Wha-why did you stop?” she gasped, almost on the verge of tears.  
    “It looked like you were having a heard time trying to say something,” he shrugged, an evil smile playing over his lips. “Was I wrong?”  
    “I was-and you- _ugh_!”  
    Grumbling, she dropped her head back on the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to regain control of her breathing. He didn’t honestly expect her to _say_ it, did he? Just the thought of saying the words out loud made her cringe in embarrassment.  
    “Oh, I get it. Why didn’t you just tell me you were close?” he chuckled, suddenly pressing his thumb against the sensitive bundle of nerves just above her opening.  
    The sound the erupted out of her lungs wasn’t something that she could exactly place, the response she had prepared suddenly vanishing as Dante continued his blissful actions. She couldn’t even attempt to speak this time around, nails digging into the mattress for dear life as her muscles seized up.  
    “Dante!” she cried out, her left hand flying up from the bed to grip his right arm as she arched up off the bed for what felt like the millionth time.  
    Dante removed his fingers from her slowly, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on her forehead as she lay in spent heap under him. The smile on his face was one of sheer pride and she couldn’t even be bothered to tell him to stop gloating. She didn’t care at that particular moment in time, body trembling in the aftermath of her climax.  
    “Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, Eve’s,” he whispered, dipping his head down to kiss her neck, licking her gently. “I’m not done with you yet…”

* * *

 

    He was having a difficult time keeping himself under control. There was a tense moment when she had snapped her legs closed on him that he thought he might actually lose it and just take her by force. His demon was none too pleased at her little change of heart at the last second, but he had managed to hold back and after she took a moment to relax, things proceeded quite nicely. Now he just had to be patient for a little while longer. The start had all been child’s play and now that he was faced with the actual deed, he was a little hesitant. He really didn’t want to hurt her, even though he knew there was no real way around it.  
    Positioning himself between her legs he pulled her closer, using her hips to help guide her closer given the fact that she couldn’t seem to work her body properly just yet. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she came crashing back down from that high due to the pain he was about to inflict. Leaning down over her body he had to ignore the way his penis brushed against her hot flesh, kissing her on the lips softly. While he was fairly certain that they had reached the point of no return, he would try his damnedest to walk away if she didn’t want to continue.  
    “Evie, are you _sure_ this is what you want?” he asked quietly, regret breaking through his voice for just asking the question.  
    “Yes,” she demanded, not a second of hesitation in her voice.  
    “You know that means-”  
    “I know. It’s ok, Dante. Please…”  
    She tightened her legs around his waist, inadvertently pulling him closer and he couldn’t wait any longer. He’d given her a chance to get out of it and she still insisted. There was no going back now. Reaching down between them he steadied himself at her entrance, demanding himself to take it slow. At first it didn’t seem like it was going to be that difficult to keep himself under control, easing into her gently, but when he stopped with just the tip inside he found his body trying to jerk him forward the rest of the way. Biting down on his lip sharply, he kept his eyes clenched shut, afraid that if he saw the look on her face that he wouldn’t be able to hold back. He could hear her breathing echoing through the room, her heart pounding in his ears almost as loudly as his own. The tightness of her constricting around him almost painfully. He _had_ to wait, there was nothing else to it. Not until she was ready…  
    “D-Dante… Don’t just, sit there,” she panted, hands clawing at his arms to try and pull him closer.  
    Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened his eyes to stare down at her. She  was looking up at him with half lidded eyes, her cheeks flush, chest heaving as she struggled to breath properly. She was amazingly sexy and he couldn’t deny her what she wanted. Taking a deep breath he gripped her hips as gently as possible before he pushed himself the rest of the way in as quickly as possible. Just as he feared, she cried out in pain, her legs trembling uncontrollably. Releasing his grip on her hips he leaned down, cupping her cheeks in his hands trying to comfort her, tears already forming in the corner of her eyes.  
    “I’m sorry,” he panted, trying to keep himself as still as possible, knowing she was in agony. “So, so sorry…”  
    She shook her head gently, her hands lacing around his neck for support.  
    “It’s ok, really. It only hurts at first, right?” she laughed, one short little chuckle that caused her to wince.  
    Nodding, he kissed her forehead again, holding her as close as possible without moving her. It felt like he was fighting an internal war against his demon, struggling to keep it under control long enough to allow her time to relax. After what seemed like hours of laying there she finally relaxed her legs, her fingers toying with his hair gently as she let out a soft sigh. Brushing his thumbs under her eyes he wiped away the tears that had formed, kissing her lips over and over again in some attempt to apologize even after she had said it was aright.  
    “You can move now,” she whispered between kisses, letting her hands fall back down to his arms to let him sit back up.  
    He returned his hands to her hips as he sat back up, moving as slowly as he possibly could as he pulled himself back out. He kept a close watch on her facial expressions as he slowly eased back in, resisting the urge to let his eyes roll back in his head. After the first thrust it was obvious she wasn’t in very much pain anymore, her fingers gripping his arms gently as he repeated the gentle thrust a second time. By the third thrust he was losing his control completely, his grip on her hips tightening as he helped her to push back against him. It wasn’t long before he set a quick pace, finally letting his eyes close as he heard breathy moans tumble off her lips with every stroke.  
    It was nearly impossible for him to keep his voice under control as he quickened his pace, hands falling to the bed on either side of her to gain more leverage. Now that he and his demon half were both on the same page, it was a lot easier for him to actually focus on how good she actually felt clenching down on him relentlessly every time he thrust into her. The sound of her heated moans only encouraged him to go faster and before he realized just how close he was, he had buried his face in the hollow of her neck, panting against her skin heavily. Her arms had found their way back up around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as she moaned out his name, which he answered with feral growls.  
    “S-shit,” he hissed, feeling his hips buck forward out of time with all his other thrusts.  
    “Dante! I-I can’t…I-” Evie gasped, tilting her head back into the pillow as her muscles suddenly clamped down on him without warning.  
    There was no holding back his release as her body gripped him relentlessly, thrusting back into her one last time as he literally spilled over into the edge of bliss where he couldn’t tell exactly what was happening and what wasn’t. It wasn’t until he heard her let out a strangled gasp that he realized he had bitten down onto something, warm liquid flowing into his mouth. Blinking he instinctively swallowed the metallic liquid, the horror of what he had just done creeping into the edge of his mind as his climax slowly died out. He’d _bitten_ her! Gasping in shock he sat up quickly, staring down at her to see what her reaction was. She had scrunched her eyes closed, her mouth open in a silent scream.  
    “Evie? Are you alright?” he choked, praying she wouldn’t be too angry with him.  
    “Uh huh,” she wheezed, letting her arms fall lifelessly at her sides. “Did you just…bite me?”  
    He ducked his head back down in shame, licking at the bloody wound on her neck where her pulse was the strongest. A mating mark, something he had no intention of doing to her just to spare her the pain. But now that it was done there was no taking it back and while he didn’t regret it, he was sure she wouldn’t feel the same way about it that he did.  
    “I didn’t mean to,” he admitted, studying the bite mark, glad to find it wasn’t as deep as he thought it was. “It’s a demon thing…”  
    “S’ok…would have liked some kind of warning though,” she chuckled, a near deranged smile spreading over her lips.  
    He licked at the wound again, cleaning off the last little traces of blood as she shivered under him before he pulled himself off of her body and collapsed on the bed next to her. It took him a moment to organize his thoughts well enough to pull her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she instantly curled up against him.  
    “This has been…one hell of a day,” he huffed, laying his chin on top of her head gently.  
    Evie nodded weakly, already half asleep by the time he managed to pull the blankets over their bodies, falling into what was certain to be the most peaceful sleep he’d had all week…


	14. Afterglow

_She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know she was no longer in Dante’s arms. It was cold again, the kind of chill that settled into your bones and refused to leave. She was dreaming again, she had to be. And despite the fact that she didn’t want to open her eyes to face whatever horrors her brain had in store, she refused to let a stupid dream ruin an otherwise perfect night. It was, after all, just a dream. Right?_  
 _There wasn’t even a shred of surprise when she slowly peeled her eyes open, coming face to face with a very familiar door she had never wanted to see again. The carvings etched into it stood out far more than the last time she had seen it, probably because she hadn’t been very concerned with her surroundings at the time. But now the sharp claws and fangs of the demons etched into the door, tearing at the flesh and souls of helpless humans stood out so vividly it almost made her stomach turn. She had no clue who the hell in their right mind would own such a door, but then again after what had happened between Dante and Vergil in the office, she was convinced Vergil wasn’t exactly sane. But there was a reason he kept appearing in her dreams and she was determined to find out why._  
 _A freezing breeze brushed past her and she was suddenly very aware of what she was wearing. One of Dante’s black sheets wrapped around her otherwise naked body. How embarrassing… The thought of just standing there in the hallway and waiting for herself to wake up was very tempting. If she could wake up she could see Dante that much sooner. But it was obvious she didn’t have the luxury of just pinching herself and waking up. Taking a deep breath she tied the sheet as tightly around her body as possible before she reached out and grabbed the elegant door handle and pulled it open slowly._  
 _The room was exactly how she remembered it. The desk, the books, the fireplace burning softly…and the day bed. Except this time Vergil was seated on the elegant bed, laying on the arm with an open book in his lap, his icy eyes closed. At first she didn’t believe that he could be sleeping with such a peaceful look on his face, not after what she had seen in Devil May Cry, but there he was. Chest rising and falling gently as he napped, the elegant blue trench coat he had been wearing draped over the arm of the daybed at his feet. For a moment she almost thought he looked adorable, until the memory of his stabbing habits flooded her mind and she found herself scowling over at him. How could something so damn beautiful be so damn hateful?_  
 _At first she thought about calling out to him, waking him without going anywhere near just in case he had that sword of his handy. She couldn’t see it right off hand, but she was sure he didn’t leave it far from his grasp. The way he held the thing in his hand was almost like it was more like a part of his body that his own arms. She had taken a very small step closer, lifting the sheet slightly to keep from tripping over it and as soon as her bare foot hit the floor, Vergil’s eyes snapped open. He sat there on the daybed, staring directly at her as if he had been expecting her to show up again. Part of her was angry with him, with his ability to just know where she was. It wasn’t fair._  
 _“Evelyn…” Vergil whispered, his voice still thick with sleep. He really had been out of it._  
 _“Why are you always in my dreams?” she demanded, refusing to get swept up in the dream again. She wanted answers and she didn’t care what it took to get them._  
 _“I could ask you the very same question. It seems every time I turn around, here you are. At first it was simply irritating, but now I realize I have a use for this strange connection with you…”_  
 _“Conn-ection?”_  
 _Snapping the book on his lap closed, Vergil laid it carefully on the end of the daybed where his feet had been, standing up fluidly. When he moved toward her she found herself shifting back toward the door, ready to run if he made any sudden movements, but he simply paused in front of the fireplace and bent down to throw more wood on the fire._  
 _“You can’t tell me that you haven’t noticed it? I knew that weren’t exactly very bright, but it is fairly obvious,” he sighed, brushing his hands clean once he was satisfied with the amount of wood he’d tossed in._  
 _The wood gave a loud pop, causing her to flinch and there was no way she could have missed the cruel smile that spread over his lips as if he could tell she was scared._  
 _“How much did you know about your mother, Evelyn?” he asked idly, standing back up to face her with the same cruel smile._  
 _“What the hell kind of question is that? She was my mother…”_  
 _“It’s a very simple question. You see, I believe there was more to your mother than you ever knew about. She left behind this journal and I must say, it’s a terribly interesting read.”_  
 _He leaned sideways to scoop the book up off of the daybed, swaying it in front of him like it was some kind of flare. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place the book from any one of the others that littered the room. The binding was black, thin pages that certainly looked like a journal rather than the thick tomes laying around the office. Vergil flipped the book open again, holding it in his hands as if it were sitting on a podium and cleared his throat._  
 _“How about I read a paragraph or two and you tell me if it strikes a nerve. April Seventeenth - It’s Evie’s sixteenth birthday and she’s still not over the loss of the twins. I keep trying to cheer her up, but nothing seems to work. There are days when she just stands on the front porch and stares at their house. I understand that it was difficult for her and the therapy doesn’t seem to help, but she has to learn to live for herself now. To move on-”_  
 _“Stop! Where did you get that?”_  
 _Vergil slowly looked up from the page, blinking at her as if he were perfectly innocent. Part of her wanted to march across the room and slap him in the face, but she knew that her chances of actually landing a hit were close to impossible._  
 _“From your house. Where else? You see, after the incident in our house I started to do a little research. It turns out your mother actually had a very interesting gift. A gift she so graciously passed on to you.”_  
 _Dropping the book onto the daybed again, Vergil moved closer to her, his steps so light she couldn’t even hear the sound of his boots echo off the stone floor. She knew she should try to run, but she was so irritated with him that she couldn’t remember exactly how to move her feet. The closer he came the faster her heart pounded in her chest, watching his cold gaze rake over her body._  
 _“And as it turns out, I actually have a use for such a talent. I need to use you, Evelyn. To find something for me,” Vergil whispered, moving so close that he forced her back against the doors. “You will help me.”_  
 _“Fuck you, I’m not helping you with anything…”_  
 _Ever so slowly, he lifted his hands on either side of her head and slammed them back onto the wooden door so forcefully she swore that she heard the wood crack. Flinching, she clenched her eyes shut, hating the way he scared her so much. For a dream it was a little too real for comfort._  
 _“You_ will _help me. You don’t have a choice, Evelyn. Because if you don’t, I will be here every night waiting for you,” he hissed, dragging one hand down the door to grip her by the neck._  
 _She couldn’t hold back the sharp gasp of pain that escaped her lips as his thumb dug into the tender spot on her neck that she knew had to be where Dante had bit her. For a moment she almost considered reached up to slap him until his thumb suddenly vanished from the tender spot, bringing it to his nose to sniff the blood painted over his skin._  
 _“He’s ruined you. Before, you were at least tolerable to be near, but now…” Vergil murmured, scoffing lightly under his breath. “I will be here every time you close you eyes, safe in his arms. And I will inflict an insurmountable amount of pain on you, sending you back to him screaming for mercy…”_  
 _“This isn’t real. You aren’t real!”_  
 _“Not real? It seems to me that the pain is very real…”_  
 _He moved his hand back to her throat, gripping her gently at first before he suddenly tightened his grip. At first the feeling was uncomfortable before she realized it was becoming increasingly harder to breath. She would have been content to just stand there glaring at him, but her oxygen starved body sent her brain into a panic. Her hands clawed at him arm, legs kicking wildly in an attempt to hit him anywhere that would cause him to release her. The only thought that ran through her mind was the ridiculous rumors of people claiming when you died in a dream, you died for real. What if she died? What if Vergil killed her in her sleep and she could never see Dante again? When darkness started framing the edges of her vision, her limbs too weak to fight back anymore, she found herself gasping for him to stop. Pleading with him to let her go and in a very unexpected turn of events, he released her._  
 _Falling to her knees in front of him she clutched her chest, coughing violently as air rushed back into her lungs. It felt like hours passed as Vergil stood there looming over her with a blank stare on his face as he waited for her to regain herself. When he suddenly crouched down to look at her, she scrambled backward into the door, glaring at him in a silent demand for him to keep his distance. Of course, he just smiled, reaching out to brush a stray hair away from her face. Too afraid to actually lash out at him, she just remained completely still, gulping down as much air as she possibly could in case he tried to strangle her again._  
 _“Do we have an agreement then?” he asked quietly, his cruel smile returned, daring her to refuse him again._  
 _“How the hell am I suppose to help you when I don’t even know what you’re talking about?” she wheezed, her throat burning as she spoke._  
 _“That’s simple, I left something for you in your home that will point you in the right direction. All I need from you is to locate and item. That’s all.”_  
 _“What item?”_  
 _Moving his hand away from her face he wagged his finger in front of her face just once before he stood back up. She watched him carefully as he slowly walked back across the room, scooping up her mother’s journal from the daybed and held it up for her to see._  
 _“It will be waiting for you at your house. And don’t try to ignore this, Evelyn. If I have to make another appearance in front of you, I promise you and Dante both will bleed,” he demanded, icy eyes glaring at her. “Wake up gently now, you don’t want to startle him. If he thinks there is something wrong, you’ll never be able to get away from him.”_  
  
    The moment her eyes snapped open the first thing that she saw was Dante’s chin. She was laying with her head on his shoulder, cuddled against his side as if nothing had happened. But her throat still burned with every breath she took. It just wasn’t possible for things that happened in dreams to carry over into real life. So why did the terror feel so real? Laying as still as possible she watched Dante sleep, remembering how Vergil had looked just as peaceful, but somehow it was believable with Dante. He even had a small little smile tugging at the corner of his lips that she knew had to be due to their little encounter.  
    She would have been content to just ignore everything that had happened if the constant uncomfortable burn in her throat didn’t remind her that he had warned her not to. All she had to do was get whatever thing he had left for her at her house, find a stupid item and be done with the whole thing. While her subconscious kept screaming at her just to tell Dante, she knew that no matter what he did, he wouldn’t be able to protect her in her dreams. Sighing softly, she tried to gently wiggle herself out from under Dante’s arm. If she woke him up, there would be no sneaking off in the night. She had managed to actually get away from his grasp, sitting up in the bed to look around the dark room. Dante hadn’t moved a damn inch. It was like he could seriously sleep through anything.  
    Gripping the black sheet that was wrapped around her body under the blanket, she slowly shifted to the edge of the bed. It wasn’t until she swung her legs over the edge and placed them on the floor that she felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist, causing her to jump slightly until she reminded herself that it was just Dante. He was sitting halfway up in bed, staring at her with a confused look on his face as if he were still half asleep.  
    “Eve’s?” he mumbled, loosening his tight grip. “Where are you goin’?  
    She forced herself to smile, praying that her voice wasn’t too marred by the dream.  
    “Just the bathroom. Lay back down, I’ll be right back,” she whispered, hoping it was enough to hide the obvious discomfort in her voice.  
    For a moment she didn’t think that he was going to let her go, staring at her intently like he was trying to see if there was something wrong before he suddenly flopped back onto the pillows. As soon as his hand fell away from her arm she couldn’t help but smirk as he fell right back into his peaceful slumber, content to believe the reason she had woken up was the bathroom. It only served to make her feel more guilty as she slid off the edge of the bed, scooping up the bag Trish had brought and paused in the open doorway to glance back at him. It was hard to tell if he was really asleep or if he was just faking it for her sake, but she had to at least try. Moving down the hallway slowly so she wouldn’t trip over the sheet, she shut herself in the bathroom and shut the door, leaving it cracked by a small margin just to make it seem like it was no big deal in case he did get out of bed. She had no doubt that he could get around the office without her ever realizing it.  
    Once she clicked on the light she had to shield her eyes for a moment as she moved to stand in front of the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was sure it was just her imagination, but it was almost like she could make out the outline of Vergil’s hand on her neck. Then she spotted the bite mark. She hadn’t understood why Dante had bitten her in the first place, but he’d said it was a demon thing. It looked like a hickey gone terribly wrong, but for some reason, she was actually quite fond of it. She found herself leaning closer to the mirror to study the bite mark which was already scabbing over. She could see the perfect little crescent outlines of his teeth, deeper where his canines had punctured her skin while the rest looked more like shallow scrapes. He’d stopped himself before he got too carried away. She made a mental note to ask him exactly what it meant when she got back. She _would_ be back. As soon as possible.  
    When her eyes finally adjusted to the light she knelt down to dig her clothes out of the bag, ignoring the dull ache in her groin as she listened carefully for any type of movement in the room next door. Pulling on a clean pair of underwear and a bra, she dug out an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, pausing for a brief moment to check for noise again. It wasn’t until she was fully dressed, pulling her hair up into a frizzy ponytail on her head that it started to sink in. She was about to sneak off in the middle of the night to help Dante’s seemingly evil twin find some God forsaken item that he would probably use to try and kill him with! Part of her prayed that Dante was waiting for her just outside the bathroom door to drag her back to his bed, even though she knew Vergil wouldn’t accept that Dante had prevented her from leaving.  
    Pulling the bathroom door open she let out a depressed sigh when she found the hallway completely empty. By the time she had made it all the way downstairs, she felt so guilty she contemplated running right back up to the bedroom and telling Dante everything that had happened. She should have done it in the first place. He was part demon, he couldn’t really judge her for have insane dreams. But she imagined that the only possible outcome of that was Dante hunting Vergil down and shoving his sword through his hand. And the last thing she wanted was for them to fight again. Working her way over to his desk, she pulled the top drawer open, praying that there was at least a scrap of paper to jot a note on. She was certain she would be back before he noticed she was gone, but it was very possible that she wouldn’t even make it down the street before he magically popped up and drug her back to bed.  
    After slipping on her shoes, she pushed the heavy doors open, cringing at the groaning hinges she squeezed out of the small opening she had created and started off into the night. It was a clear night, the stars twinkling millions of miles above her head in blissful ignorance. It must have been nice… Her brisk walk slowly turned into a slow jog as she felt the need to rush spring up out of nowhere. She wanted to get to the house and back before Dante had a chance to find her note. The more she thought about it, the more she regretted even leaving the damned thing. But as she crossed over the bridge, it was far to late to turn back around. Jogging turned to running as she worked her way through the neighborhood, not even needing to think about where she was going before she was standing in front of her house, panting in exhaustion doubled over on the sidewalk.  
    The front door was cracked open where she had no doubt Vergil had invaded her home. Holding her breath she made her way into the house, looking over her belongings in amazement that nothing had been moved out of place. She had honestly expected destruction like their home. But as far as she could tell, everything was in pristine condition. Hesitantly she made her way up the stairs, stopping in front of her bedroom door in shock. The destruction had been limited to the one room, where the bed had been shoved against the bathroom door, the entire floor ripped up where it had once been sitting. Trish hadn’t lied, he’d torn up the whole damn floor!  
    “Why the hell would he tear up the whole damn floor?” she hissed, stepping over the splintered floorboards to try and assess the damage farther.  
    “How else was I suppose to find the journal?”  
    Her head whipped around, gawking at the figure standing in the hallway. She should have known.  What he had left for her in the house wasn’t just some object that would point her in the right direction. He was going to take her in the right direction. Whether she liked it or not.  
    “I’m so stupid…” she gasped, nearly tripping over the shattered floor as he advanced on her with a cruel grin.  
    “Yes, you really are.”


	15. Where or When?

    The bed was cold even though he knew it shouldn't be. Evie had gotten up to use the bathroom, he remembered that much, but how long ago had that been? Part of him hated the state of peace she seemed to put him in, so much so that he was able to fall right back into a deep slumber without much effort. And now she hadn't come back? It just wasn't possible, why wouldn't she come back to bed? She wasn't at all like him, sleeping around with random woman just for the pleasure of it all. No, what Evie craved was companionship. _His_ companionship. So she had to be there, just out of his reach.  
    Hesitantly he peeled his eyes open, seeing what he already knew would be waiting for him. An empty bed, blankets folded back over him where she had left him all alone. Sitting up he glanced at the window, watching the fire orange sun rising between the buildings. It was morning and Evie was gone. Maybe it was karma. Usually he was the one to sneak off in the early morning. But he knew deep down that it was just stupidity. He had seen the distress in her eyes when she assured him she was just going to the bathroom. Heard the pain in her voice. But he had shrugged it off as the aftermath of their little romp. All he wanted was to allow her some space if that was what she needed, but that had backfired.  
    It took him longer than he liked to swing his legs off the side of the bed, grabbing a pair of pants that were dangling out of the dresser next to the bed and pulled them on without even buttoning them. She had to be on the couch. Probably upset over the mark he’d left on her neck. He just had to hope that when he explained it to her she didn’t get too angry with him. Learning he was part demon was one thing. Mating marks were something entirely different. Normally girls were all about commitment, but he had a met a few women who weren’t really looking for anything too serious. At the time, he was sure Evie was serious, but what the hell did he know? He’d been wrong before. And the sight of the empty couch in the main room was a painful reminder of that fact.  
    “You have got to be kidding me…” he grumbled, marking toward his desk when he noticed the drawers pulled halfway open with several objects sticking out of them.  
    There was a sheet of paper laying on top of his desk, which struck him as odd considering he never wrote anything down. She’d snuck off in the middle of the night and left him a damn goodbye letter? Yeah, karma was tearing him a new asshole _big_ time. Flopping down into his chair, he pushed the drawers closed, snapping several pens in the process that were sticking out and scooped the paper up off of the desk. The letter was short, but concerning, his eyes scanning her shaky handwriting quickly before he dropped the letter on his desk and stood up to go back to his room.  
   _Dante, Don’t be angry with me…_  
    Collecting a belt from his closet he quickly buttoned his pants and strapped the belt on, grabbing a random pair of socks from his dresser and stormed back downstairs to finish getting ready. Don’t be angry? He wasn’t sure how she believed that was at all possible given the circumstances. Every movement he made oozed anger, from pulling on jacket to strapping his holsters into place.  
   _I’ll be back before morning, so don’t worry._  
    He _was_ worried. Of all the things in the world that he didn’t want getting it’s hands on Evie, his brother was the worst. The fact that he had shown any interest in Evie at all was worrisome. Vergil, who didn’t like humans, was after _his_ Evie.  
   _I had to go home. It’s hard to explain, but it’s important that I do this. For us._  
    On the one hand he wanted to admire her determination. If it was something that she believed would help him in any way, spare him from any amount of pain, she would jump without a seconds hesitation. Of course, he also wanted to smack her on the head for it. He didn’t need her to do anything for him, aside from being there. If there was something wrong, she should have just told him. Handling problems, _especially_ problems his brother created, was his job.  
     _Forgive me. ~ Evie ~_  
    And while he was angry, he would forgive her. If he could find her before it was too late. It wouldn’t be like their childhood where Vergil attempted to push her off of roofs. No, he would cut her into tiny shreds that Dante wouldn’t even be able to recognize enough to mourn.  
    Tucking his guns into their holsters, he strapped Rebellion across his back and slid on his boots, striding out of the office into the brisk morning air earlier than he had probably ever left the office in his life. She had gone home to do whatever it was that she felt she needed to do, so it was only logical that he start in that direction. Knowing Vergil and his need to torment him, there would be a trail to follow. It would be almost too easy to track the two of them down and he feared what he would find when he reached the end of it.

* * *

 

    The cold wasn’t just part of her dream. She realized that now. The frost bitten castle was real, not just some figment of her subconscious. And it worried her. The walls felt even more like a prison than she remembered them being in her dreams, even as Vergil lead her through the open courtyard toward the room that he had deemed her cell. Everything was covered in a thick layer of ice, the ancient water fountain in the middle of courtyard frozen in time just like the vibrant green plants that surrounded it. She didn’t understand how they could still appear to be alive under the thick layer of ice.  
    “Keep up.”  
    Vergil’s icy voice cut through the chilly air and she jumped, realizing she had fallen behind. He was standing several feet in front of her, glaring back at her with hateful eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from glaring right back at him as she shuffled forward slowly on the ice covered stones beneath her feet. Vergil didn’t seem to care if she fell or that she was freezing. He just kept moving ahead, speaking one to two word commands in sharp snaps. Opening doors only to close them again before she could make it all the way through. Twice he’d nearly snapped her ankle off.  
    As he opened the door at the end of their path, she gulped in pure dread as the hallway from her dreams sprang to life before her. Crumbling stone walls that did little to hold out the cold. She knew exactly where he was leading her to, yet it was still shocking to see the door in person. The images making her cringe as Vergil slid into the room, leaving the door cracked open to follow him. She wondered just how far she could get before he caught her, but she knew it couldn’t have been far. Taking a deep breath she slid into the room, watching Vergil closely as he started to stack wood into the empty fireplace.  
    “Why are we here? If this is where you wanted to bring me, why couldn’t you just wait until I fell asleep again?” she demanded, hugging herself tightly, refusing to move away from the door.  
    “There is only so much that can be accomplished in a dream world, as you well know. How many times did you attempt to bring Dante back to life in your dreams when you believed him to be dead?” he muttered quietly, lighting a scrap of paper and wedging it in-between the firewood.  
    “I don’t think that’s any of your business…”  
    He turned to look at her, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side as he stood up and pointed at a stack of cloth on the day bed.  
    “I’ve prepared clothing for you. Change. I will return shortly and we can get to work.”  
    Without another word he strode out of the room, the door locking behind him, indicating that he wasn’t allowing her to have any kind of freedom at all. She glared at the door, shuffling over toward the fireplace slowly. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was going to change into whatever clothing he had set out for her. She hardly even glanced at the blue and gold trimmed fabrics as she crouched in front of the small fire, waiting for it to grow enough to actually keep her warm. But the longer she sat there crouched in front of the small fire the more she realized it would never be enough to keep her warm.  
    She glanced back at the stack of clothing on the day bed, grinding her teeth in irritation. How could he be so damn practical and so damn mean all at the same time? She was not at all thrilled about the prospect of wearing anything that he had prepared for her, but she was teetering on the edge of being frozen alive. Standing up she stepped back to sit on the edge of the rock hard day bed, hating the familiarity of the furniture as she picked up the long silky looking blue jacket folded on top of the pile. Underneath it sat a long sleeved white shirt with gold trim that was certainly more substantial that the thin t-shirt she was wearing.  
    Deciding it would be better to at least change her shirt, she stood up and peeled off her t-shirt and held the new shirt up to properly examine it. Everything Vergil seemed to choose was old and intricate looking. Something as simple as a long sleeved shirt had to be embroidered with gold threads and silk like it was meant for some kind of socialite rather than homely little Evie. Wrinkling her nose at the snooty clothing, she lifted her arms over her head to pull it on and escape the cold when the door suddenly cracked open and Vergil strolled into the room as if nothing were wrong with the situation.  
    “What the hell!” she snapped, flailing her arms as she tried to cover herself as much as possible from his gaze. “A little privacy?”  
    “Believe me, you have nothing worth seeing,” he scoffed, walking right over to the book covered desk and started sorting through them.  
    “Oh, that’s right. There’s probably only one person in the world you’d enjoy fucking,” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And that’s your _brother_.”  
    Vergil snapped the book he was holding closed, turning his head to look at her with a deadpan expression. At first she didn’t think that he had even cared to hear what she said, but he slammed the book down on the desk and moved toward her so suddenly that she flinched back into the wall. She refused to clench her eyes shut as he forced himself so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, staring at her intently.  
    “Do watch your mouth. I will find a way to use your gifts _without_ your head attached to your body, if need be. This just saves me time…” he insisted, backing away slowly.  
    She glared over at him, pulling the shirt on quickly, thankful to have something covering her freezing arms as Vergil resumed searching through his book. She had no doubt that he would find some demented way to use whatever weird gift he kept talking about without her being alive. There was no getting past the fact that his sword always sat mere inches from his hand, ready and waiting to kill anything he drew it against. As much as she disliked her current situation, she didn’t want to anger him and end up on the sharp end of the blade if at all possible. He hadn’t killed her yet, which was a good sign. Whatever he needed from her had to be important.  
    “You keep saying I have some kind of gift passed on from my mom, but I have no damn clue what you’re talking about. Like, was my mom a demon or something and I just never knew?” she asked, trying to get some kind of information out of him.  
    “A demon? Which would make you…half demon?” he asked, looking over at her as she nodded her head. “Don’t flatter yourself. You are a weak, pathetic human, just like your mother.”  
    “Then what the hell do you need me for?”  
    “This.”  
    He nodded at the book he was reading, strolling back over to her and held the book out for her to see. There were symbols in a language that she couldn’t understand, swirls and sharp lines etched into the decrepit page by hand. There was an illustration of a woman in a long gown stretched out over a stone table while several men stood around and watched her sleeping. One of the men was kneeling closer to her head, scribbling more of the strange symbols onto a scroll. As much as the image confused her, she couldn’t help but study it intently, trying to understand exactly what the it had to do with her.  
    “Your mother was a woman such as this. Able to see things in dreams and visions that normal people were unable to understand. Dreams are usually jumbled images and events that are difficult to string together to make any sense from. But your mother, she could see dreams as if she were living them. Walk through them, manipulate them to find information. Were you never curious as to why your mother never seemed rested?”  
    “She…had a weak heart.”  
    Vergil rolled his eyes dramatically, flipping the page of the book to point out another illustration of the same woman walking through a long corridor. If Evie didn’t know any better, she would have guessed that the stone walls were the same walls they had just passed to get to her prison cell. But then again, all old castle type buildings all looked the same.  
    “Gifts such as these are rare. They take their toll on the mind as well as the body. Nothing comes without a price, Evelyn. Your mother paid her price with her life. Like you would have had she not interfered.”  
    “Interfered?”  
    A cold hand suddenly grasped her by the back of her neck, forcing her face down onto the day bed and she couldn’t stop the muffled scream that tore out of her lips. Vergil’s hand was like a steel vice, forcing her to kneel next to the day bed to keep from snapping her knees. She could feel his fingers combing through her hair, brushing it away from her neck before he let her go. When she instantly tried to sit up his hand returned with a harsh squeeze at the base of her neck that caused her to cry out in pain.  
    “Behave, or this will be far more painful than it needs to be,” he demanded, slowly withdrawing his hand again.  
    Fear had paralyzed her limbs. As much as she wanted to get up, she couldn’t seem to get her body to move as she heard Vergil’s footsteps moving away from her, only to stop a few strides away and slowly return. Her mind kept painting horrible images of him slicing off her head with his sword and when his cold fingertips returned to back of her neck she flinched violently, trying to hold back a whimper of sheer terror. His fingertips trailed under her new shirt, pulling the fabric down so that he had a clear view of the birds on the back of her neck.  
    “There was a mark here, am I correct?” he asked, running his fingers over one of the birds.  
    “A b-birth mark,” she confirmed, afraid that if she didn’t cooperate he would hurt her again.  
    “No. It wasn’t something you were born with. It was an attempt by your mother to spare you the trouble she went through. And I must say, the old man who placed this seal did a fairly good job. You’ve lasted all these years with minimal damage, though I believe this tattoo may have compromised it’s effectiveness.”  
    The sound of metal being unsheathed made her body tremble and while she desperately wanted to turn and see what he was doing, she couldn’t bring herself to see the face of her killer. Dante’s face preparing to murder her in cold blood. All she could do was regret ever leaving the office. She could have been happy for at least a little while longer before her untimely death.  
    “If you lose consciousness, try to find your way back as soon as possible. We have a great deal of ground to cover before my idiot brother pokes his nose in things that do not concern him,” Vergil sighed, a very small hint of humor on the edge of his voice.  
    She could just imagine him standing over her with his sword, aiming for her neck with a wicked smile on his face. The fact that he had instructed her to make it back as soon as possible gave her a small glimmer of hope that whatever he was doing wasn’t going to end her life. But as she felt a sharp prick on the back of her neck she knew she was foolish to hope at all. At first the pain hadn’t been at all terrible. Dante’s bite had actually been worse, but a tidal wave of searing pain followed shortly after, wracking her entire body and she couldn’t stop herself from sinking to the stone floor in agony. The once frozen stone bricks on the floor did nothing to calm the blistering pain the spread through her limbs, fingertips digging into the spaces between the stones, trying to hold on to something. The room around her started to blur and before she could even force a plea for help out of her throat, everything turned pitch black.  
  
 _The office still smelled the same as she remembered it. Stale pizza crusts and beer lingering on the fringe of her brain, almost as if she could reach out and touch them. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced around the room in shock, knowing there was no way that she was really standing in the middle of Dante’s office. If there was one place in the world she wished she could be, that was it. She had died and gone to some kind of sick version of heaven. She was sure of it. The pain had been too severe for her to have actually lived through. Turning her head toward the stairs she saw Dante laying face down on the couch, shirtless, his body as still as a corpse. Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to move, inching closer to him to test the limits of her new found afterlife._  
 _“Dante?” she muttered, trying to hold back the sadness that crept up into her throat._  
 _“Go away… Closed,” he groaned into the couch._  
 _Her heart throbbed painfully, studying him as she moved closer, trying to decide what it was about him that was different. He looked far more muscular than she remembered. Even his hair looked a little shorter. Leaning over him on the couch she started to reach out to touch him as a loud knock echoed through the office from the front door and Dante suddenly sat up, glaring right past her toward the doors._  
 _“I said we’re closed! Go away!”_  
 _It was like she didn’t even exist. Standing not even two feet from him as he glared right past her at the door with the most irritated expression on his face that she had ever seen. He was older. And while he was still very much Dante, she could make out the fine traces of stubble on his chin as he pushed himself up off of the couch and moved right past her headed for his desk. Where the hell was she? Or better yet, when?_


	16. Pity For A Demon

_It was still difficult to believe what she was seeing. And the fact that he just didn’t seem to see her at all. She followed him across the office as he sat at his desk, staring at the doors like he was greatly considering murdering them. Moving to the edge of the desk she reached out and slammed her hand down on it, trying to get his attention, but he wouldn’t even glance at her._  
 _“Dante! Hello? Can you hear me?” she snapped, waving her hand in front of his face._  
 _She didn’t understand how every other dream she had had with Vergil, she was to interact with him perfectly fine. Or more like he was able to attack her perfectly fine. But Dante didn’t have a clue that she was just inches in front of him. Once he was certain that the knocking had ceased for good, he shifted in his chair, turning his head so that he was staring right at her. She flinched back from him out of shock, thinking that he would actually see her, but he just sat there._ Staring _._  
  
    The transition between being asleep and awake was, at the very least, smoother. One moment she standing in front of an older version of Dante and the next, she was staring at a roaring fireplace. Sitting up instantly, she winced in pain, reaching up to grip the back of her neck. She was amazed to find a thick patch of gauze taped to her skin just below the collar of her new shirt. He’d bandaged the wound _he_ caused? Now that didn’t make any fucking sense…  
    Glancing around the room the first thing she looked for was Vergil. She hadn’t been too thrilled to be alone with him _before_ he stabbed her and sure as hell didn’t want him around her now. Thankfully, the room was empty. Empty, but warm. Evie slowly swung her legs off of the side of the day bed he had laid her on. Part of her was amazed that he just hadn’t left her to freeze on the floor. It was like the asshole was bi-polar. Kind to her when she wasn’t conscious and downright cruel when she was awake.  
    And then she really looked at herself. Her jeans had been replaced by the silky navy pants, the long jacket button over her chest. He’d taken off her damn pants! She was going to kill him, or die trying! Gritting her teeth in irritation she stood up from the day bed, ignoring the slight sway in her step as she moved toward the door. Taking a deep breath, she slowly grabbed the handle, knowing that the door would be locked. Or at least, she was sure it would have been locked.  
    A small gasp of shock escaped her lips as the door easily pushed open, out into the empty hallway. She half expected Vergil to be waiting for her as she poked her head out into the hall, but there was nothing. It was too good to be true, but she wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass her by. Taking a slow step out into the hallway she waited for a brief moment before she took off at a sprint. When Vergil had lead her into his frosty fortress, all of the halls and corridors looked the same, but she was sure if she could just make it to the courtyard that she could find a way out. Everything else was falling apart, so why wouldn’t the garden walls be a little decayed?  
    The door at the far end of the hall was a little stubborn, but after she threw her entire weight against it several times, it popped open and she nearly fell on her face as she spilled through the frame. Her feet slid on the thick layer of ice that covered the ground of the courtyard, but she managed to catch herself on one of the posts to keep herself upright.  
    “Fucking _ice_!” she hissed, balancing herself before she attempted to move again. “How the hell does he live here?”  
    It was dark. She hadn’t realized it before she actually looked around to calculate the best path out of the gardens. Sighing heavily, she started off across the frozen stones in no particular direction, hoping her eyes would adjust well enough for her to find a way out. Shuffling at a snails pace seemed the like only option to keep from busting her ass. She knew that if she didn’t pick up the pace, Vergil was going to discover she was missing and find her easily, but if she fell and broke something she would be in worse trouble. Even without his demonic abilities, she would be easy to spot. She was thankful when the slick stones suddenly gave way to brittle grass, the frozen blades crunching loudly under her feet. Pausing for a moment, she glanced back at the castle hidden in darkness, waiting for Vergil to pop up. The fact that he hadn’t shown up was highly suspicious. For needing her abilities so badly, he didn’t seem very interested in keeping tabs on her.  
    It was possible that he had already taken what he needed. Or maybe Dante had shown up to rescue her. The very thought of the possibility of Dante being there made her want to turn right back around and return to the warm office. But then again, would he know where to find them? She had left the note stating that she had gone back home, but there wasn’t a note there to tell him where Vergil had taken her from there. He would find her, wouldn’t he? Of course he would, he was Dante.  
    The faint sound of grass crunching behind her caused her to wheel around, gawking at the looming figure before her. She had always believed that demons resided in hell, but this creature looked right at home in the freezing temperatures. Ice covered the majority of it’s thin opaque body, long arms leading down to dagger like claws that skimmed the ground. It had apparently been drooling, but the air around them was so frigid that it had frozen to it’s chin and long fangs like extra little spikes. Pure white eyes scanned over her body and as much as she wanted to run, her knees had locked into place, refusing to budge. It would be just her luck, escape one sadistic demon and fall right into the claws of another.  
    “Insufferable woman,” a cold voice hissed, a strong hand gripping her by the collar of her jacket and jerked her off her feet.  
    As soon as her ass hit the ice, she skidded across the slick surface like a bullet, slamming into the frozen fountain so hard that she was sure it had broken her back. It was hard to see through the tears of pain that had welled up, but there was no mistaking what she was seeing. Vergil was standing at the edge of the courtyard, void of his long blue jacket, obviously oblivious to the chilling air surrounding him. He was clutching that beloved blade of his in his left hand, fingers curling around it almost lovingly before he reached over with his right hand to draw it. The frosty demon that had been eyeing her as a possible meal lunged at the cruel twin and as she blinked to clear her vision, it was over.  
    Vergil hadn’t moved an inch as far as she would tell, the demon kicking up a shower of snow and ice as it lunged before it suddenly dropped to the ground on either side of him in two evenly divided sections. She watched in awe as the demon began to crumble into small crystals of ice, its corpse blending into the scenery as if it belonged there all along. Vergil turned on his heel, hardly making a sound as he moved back toward her, glaring down at her like her very existence offended him.  
    “I trust that I don’t need to explain why you shouldn’t leave your room. I refuse to watch over you like an infant,” he sighed, boredom dripping off of every word.  
    When he reached down to grab her by the arm, jerking her to her feet, she tried to pull away from him even though she knew that it was useless. But she was determined to defy him every step of the way. Even as he pulled her back across the courtyard, back into the frozen hallway and shoved her back into the now sweltering office. It wasn’t until he flung her toward the daybed that she finally stop fighting, her back still in pain from the collision with the fountain.  
    “Now, if you are quite finished acting like a spoiled brat, perhaps you would like to do the job I brought you here to do?” he asked, though she had a good feeling it really wasn’t a request at all.  
    He had left his jacket laying over the day bed, a thick book laying on top of it haphazardly where he had left the room quickly to find her. The idea that he might have been concerned for her life never even crossed her mind, he was probably just irritated that she had taken off.  
    “What am I suppose to be doing? For someone who seems like such a smartass, you’re really vague on the details,” she huffed, shoving his jacket and the book off onto the floor so that she could sit down.  
     Frowning at her, Vergil leaned down to pick up the book and his jacket, flipping the book open to a seemingly random page before he held it out for her to take.  
    “Read? Oh, this just gets better and better…” she snorted, refusing to take the book.  
    “It’s a photograph. Stop acting like a stubborn cow and _look_ at it.”  
    Grinding her teeth, she turned her head ever so slightly to peek at the picture on the page. It looked like nothing more than another book, illustrated in black and white with carvings she couldn’t make out on the black cover of the book.  
    “Ok, what about it?” she groaned, glaring up at him in sheer confusion.  
    “I need for you to find this book for me. The last person to hold it, wrote this book and hid it away somewhere. It is very important that I find it. Soon.”  
    “Why is it so important?”  
    “That is none of your business. Your job is to simply locate it’s whereabouts.”  
    He dropped the book into her lap and she found herself trying to study the words on the opposite page from the picture to get some kind of clue of what it was for. But all the letters were foreign, intricate script that she had no idea where to even start trying to decipher it. The book itself, looked sinister. She had a good feeling that if Vergil wanted it so badly, nothing good could come of it.  
    “I’m not helping you find it if you won’t tell me what it’s for,” she demanded.  
    “Then you are of no use to me. If you will not locate the book, I will be forced to dispose of you and find it some other way. Is that what you want? To never see Dante again?”  
    Never see Dante again? The memory of the dream fluttered back to life in her mind and she shuddered at the thought of being invisible to him. It was possible that the dream was some kind of warning, if she didn’t cooperate with Vergil he would kill her and Dante would be without her. It was just a book, what harm could a book do? Pictures and words, that was all.  
    Taking a deep breath she laid her hand over the page in the book and just stared at it. What the hell was she suppose to do? The only time that she had ever seen anything was in her sleep, so how was she suppose to find this book when she was awake? It wasn’t like she came with a damn instruction booklet. After sitting there for what felt like ages of glaring at her hand, she groaned in frustration, dropping the book onto the floor.  
    “I can’t do this! You can’t expect me to just be able to do this!” she hissed, watching him warily as he leaned down to scoop the book back up.  
    “I understand that it’s challenging for someone like you, but you _will_ do it. Try again.”  
    He flipped the book open again and slammed it back into her lap causing her to lurch. Rolling her eyes she placed her hand back over the photo of the book and closed her eyes just to avoid the glare he was giving her. But the results didn’t change despite the fact that she was trying her best to see something about the book in question. Anything, would have been helpful. A flicker of a bookshelf somewhere, a map. _Anything_. But there was nothing but the crackle of the fireplace in front of her and the uneasy feeling of knowing that Vergil was watching her like a hawk. Sighing, she opened her eyes, glancing up at him to see the disappointed look on his face. She wasn’t going to be able to help him, she was going to die.  
    “There’s nothing,” she mumbled, dropping her eyes back to the floor.  
    Vergil reached down and ripped the book out of her lap, snapping it shut loudly. She knew that he was angry, she could practically feel it rolling off of him in waves. But there was just nothing she could do. There was no possible way for her to see anything of importance. Dreams didn’t mean that she could magically locate lost items on a whim. It was just impossible.  
    “I assumed that you would be too weak to actually do it. But we have time. I will return later and we will try again…” he sighed, bored again.  
    “Why are you such a dick? What happened to you to make you this way?” she snapped, angry at his insults.  
    He cast a dark look down at her and for the briefest moment, she thought that he might actually respond to her until he took a step away from the daybed. Without thinking she reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, halting his escape, determined to understand what it was that had turned Vergil into the uncaring person in front of her. Even though he had never really cared for her, he had always been at Dante’s side. Something had changed and she needed to know what it was. The answer she would receive, however, was much more than she was prepared to handle.  
  
 _The air around her smelled of dirt. It was a strange contrast to the smoky smell of the burning fire that she should have been seated next to. Instead she found herself staring at a tall tree. It’s branches void of leaves, scraggly dead branches hanging down so low that any average adult would bash their head on them if they weren’t careful. She remembered the tree, even though she couldn’t quite place it in the darkness surrounding her. An old memory lingering on the fringe of her brain that she couldn’t quite make out, but she was sure the last time she had seen the tree it had been in the daylight._  
 _The thick clouds overhead finally broke away from the full moon, the tree becoming more and more clear as the light filtered down over the darkened world. She found herself stepping closer to the tree, reaching out to touch it’s bark to test how real it was. When she actually felt the rough bark under her fingers she flinched back away from it, peering around at her surroundings. The white and gray rocks jutting up out of the ground all around in her an array of shapes finally clicking in her brain. She was in a cemetery. And not just any cemetery, but the one she had watched her childhood friends and parents be buried in._  
 _The tree was the marker she had used to find the twin’s graves when she had taken them flowers. She could remember staring at the dead tree, hating that it mocked her with it’s decrepit appearance. Taking in a deep breath she stepped closer to the tombstones, trying to make out the names in the low moonlight, but the shadows the tree created made it impossible. Standing there, staring down at what she knew had to be her friends graves, she felt a lump rise up in her throat remembering all the times she had brought them flowers. The earth was still unsettled, indicating that they had only just been buried. Three tombstones, three piles of earth, three lives she thought had been lost forever._  
 _At first, the noise didn’t register in her mind. She couldn’t get past the sadness long enough to pay attention until it was the only thing she could hear. It sounded like a scratching noise, but it was so muffled it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. It wasn’t until a hand suddenly sprung up out of the loose dirt that she realized what the noise was, lurching back away from the grave in terror. Stumbling over her own feet and the dead tree roots, she landed roughly against the tree, watching as the pale figure dug it’s way out of the ground, shaking off the dirt from it’s snowy hair halfheartedly. Despite the fact that he was nude, Evie couldn’t tear her eyes away from him as he slowly turned to face the tombstones, his dirt caked hands clenching into fists as he read the names on the graves that she couldn’t make out._  
 _“Dante?” he croaked, reaching out to brush his fingers over the tombstone next to the grave he had escaped from._  
 _She couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he had to be going through. To wake up in a coffin, only to dig his way out and find that his entire family was gone. She had never in her life particularly cared for Vergil, but in the one small instant…she_ pitied _him. Her pain, was nothing compared to what he must have felt…_  
  
    Vergil’s arm jerked out of her grasp and she found herself nearly teetering off the edge of day bed onto the floor again as she tried to process what she had just seen. Vergil was staring down at her blankly, his hand gripping the book so tightly that his fingers were starting to turn white.  
    “Vergil I-”  
    “You want to know what it is that happened to me? I was left for dead,” he murmured, his cold eyes distant even though he was staring right at her. “Keep your filthy hands off of me. We will try this again and if the results are not better next time, I will have to find some sort of motivation.”  
    She dropped her eyes to the floor, listening to the sounds of his footsteps moving toward the door, not daring to even glance at him for fear of angering him again. It wasn’t until the door groaned open and closed again that she moved, curling up on the day bed in a ball, wishing that she had never grabbed him…


	17. Uncertainty

    “Look _again_.”  
    Her irritation over the situation finally reached it’s boiling point, causing her to lash out. The heavy reference book in her hands was launched across the room, aimed at his head even though she knew there was no chance of actually hitting him. As soon as the book hit the wall next to his scowling face, she was up off of the daybed, pacing the floor in front of the fireplace like a caged animal. That was exactly what she felt like, an animal on display for his entertainment. And she was certain the more she struggled, the more entertaining it was for him.  
    “No! _You_ look again! There is nothing there, it’s a damn _book_ for crying out loud,” she hissed, turning toward the built in bookshelves that lined the back wall. “You want a fucking book, here’s one!”  
    Grabbing the nearest book that she could reach, she launched it across the room carelessly, hoping she would at least graze him with it.  
    “And here’s another one! Or this one. Or this, look! There’s a whole fucking _wall_ of books! Take your pick!”  
    It had gotten to a point where Evie was just so frustrated with him that she hoped he would kill her for the outburst, just to be rid of him! She hated his stoic nature. How he just stood there, watching her try to locate a book with his frosty gaze. Like now. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, as calm as could be while she ranted. The fact that he couldn’t even yell back at her was _frustrating_.  
    “Are you finished?” he muttered quietly.  
    “No! I am not finished! There is no chance in _hell_ I am going to find a book that you couldn’t even find. You said it yourself, I’m just a human. Let me _go_ and find the stupid book on your own,” she demanded, stomping her foot on the floor.  
    Very slowly, Vergil crouched down to pick up the first book she had launched at him and dropped it silently onto the daybed. Even though she was pissed at him, it didn’t stop her legs from trembling as he moved closer. Vergil had a very strange effect on her that she didn’t like in the slightest. Not only did he scare the hell out of her, but because he looked exactly like Dante, she found herself unable to really respond when he got close to her.  
    He moved toward her, pressing her back against the disheveled bookshelf, her breath hitching in her chest as he placed both hands on either side of her head. She instantly closed her eyes as he leaned closer, wishing that he would just keep his damn distance. His breath tickled her neck as he leaned in, her body shaking uncontrollably.  
    “Don’t you think that I have searched these shelves? That I have touched every book in this entire estate? You would not be here if the book were that simple to locate,” he whispered, a cold hand brushing over the tender bite mark that Dante had left behind. “Do you know what this mark means?”  
    Without really meaning to, her head shook from side to side, drawing in a shaky breath as his thumb ghosted over the mark repeatedly.  
    “It’s a _mating_ mark. A demon’s way of marking their territory. Their _property_. How do you think Dante would react if I were to mark over this?”  
    Her eyes flew open at the statement, coming face to face with Vergil. He was closer than she thought he would be, frigid eyes locked with her own. The grin on his lips was in no way a kind one.  
    “You wouldn’t-” she gasped, trying to shift along the bookshelves to get away from him.  
    “I told you, Evelyn, if you could not do the job that I brought you here to do,” he murmured, grabbing her by the throat to halt her retreat. “That I would be forced to find some sort of motivation for you. And I can ensure you that I will be no where near as accommodating as my brother.”  
    Despite the harsh tone of his voice, his grip on her neck was loose. She knew that he was only retraining himself to keep from killing her. If he killed her now, everything that he had done would have been for nothing. The very act of touching her had to be revolting for him, so she could only imagine what a sexual encounter would mean to him. Her body shuddered in fear at the thought, knowing it would only be a painful experience for her both physically _and_ mentally. Just because they shared the same face, they did not share the same heart and Evie wanted nothing to do with him.  
    “Now, I will ask you again, are you finished? Would you like to try again, or continue with this little tantrum of yours?” he purred against her ear, casing a wave of nausea to wash over her stomach.  
    “I’ll look again. Get off of me,” she gulped, her answer flowing off of her lips without a second of hesitation. Vergil’s hands on her in any way, was unacceptable.  
    She was thankful that as soon as she agreed to cooperate with him again that he immediately released his grip on her neck and moved to the daybed to collect the book again. Without him bearing down on her, she was able to breath properly, her hand flying up to her neck to caress the bite mark as if to comfort it somehow. It was hard for her to understand the strange sense of importance she felt when Vergil had described to her what the mark was. She was important to Dante. Not a fling that would be over almost as soon as it started, she was his _mate_. Her goal was clear: find the book as quickly as possible and get back to Dante in one piece.  
    Vergil held the book out to her and she found herself taking it from him eagerly. Not only was she afraid that he might grab her again if her hand lingered too long, but she wanted to find the book. To be finished with the ridiculous task of being an overrated side show act in the circus that Vergil was running. It was just a book, a stationary object that had been hidden away for an immeasurable amount of time. The fact that they were in the old castle wasn’t a coincidence. Vergil had already done most of the work for her already, she just needed to point him in a direction. Hopefully the direction lead him straight into hell.  
    Gripping the book in her hands tightly, she moved slowly toward the door, ignoring the way Vergil moved with her as if he were her shadow. Staying in the office wasn’t helping her locate the book any faster, so she hoped that by moving around within the castle that it would jog something. She was slightly amazed that Vergil did nothing to stop her until she realized that he wasn’t the slightest bit worried about her getting away from him. Even if she ran, there was no hope of escaping. As she walked down the hallway in a random direction, she flipped through the pages of the book, trying to find the photo again. It wasn’t until she happened across another illustration of a grand looking greenhouse that she paused.  
    “What is it?” he asked and she could literally feel his eyes burning into her back.  
    “This. Is there a place like this here?”  
    She turned slightly, tilting the book for him to see, amazed when he simply nodded and pushed past her in the hallway. He lead her at a surprisingly slow pace through the frigid corridors and breezeways that littered the castle as she flipped through the many illustrations in the book. None of them made any sense to her, foreign places she had never seen in her head or elsewhere. Yet still, the greenhouse stood out to her more than anything else. The high curved glass ceiling that had been at one time littered with greenery, stone benches to sit and just relax. It was hard to believe by looking at the place that such a thing had ever existed in the frozen stone prison, but there it was.  
    As Vergil opened the ancient stained glass door that was missing several of its color panes, it opened into what would have been at one point, a beautiful room. If it weren’t for all the ice, dead plants and shattered glass roof, it would have still been nice. Vergil slowly stepped into the room, moving to one side to allow her in, watching her intently as she spun around in circles to see everything as she hugged the open book against her chest. She half expected him to start hounding her over the location of the book again, but he seemed content to just watch her as she made her way around the iced over plants that were frozen in time. And at the very back of the sizable room was the very thing in the picture that she was searching for.  
    The back wall of the green house was a solid panel of glass that overlooked the sprawling grounds beside the castle until it ran up into the surrounding mountains. In the very middle of the extravagant view stood a decrepit statue, like nothing she had ever seen in her lifetime. It looked like a woman in the face, but the body was obviously masculine. The androgynous being held its arms out in front of its body, holding what looked like an urn over the floor beneath it. But what was more striking was not the strange unisex appearance of it, but the huge wings that were fanned out on either side of it’s body.  
    Not an angel, not a demon, but something more…botanical. In all honesty, they looked more like branches than real wings, long and fluid like a willow despite the fact that they were made of stone. She found herself inching closer to get a better look at them, almost as if she expected them to actually be real branches upon closer examination. Reaching out to steady herself on the urn, she tried to step over the ice covered bed of dead flowers at it’s base, but as soon as her finger brushed the cold urn she quite literally froze. Every muscle in her body seized up, the book spilling from her arms onto the ice covered floor. The agonizingly familiar burn ripped through her body starting at her fingertips and as much as she wanted to sink to the floor in pain, her body was welded in place.  
    The entire focal point of the room change, shifting seasons from frigid cold to bright, green spring. Smells of plants and soil filled the air, mixed with a stronger cloying aroma that she couldn’t quite place wafting past. The feet of the statue that she had been so captivated by looked as if they had just been carved from a slab of marble. Sparkling in the sunlight that was filtering in through the glass backdrop behind it. Her vision tilted down, glancing at the pages of the book she had held, now perched in a pair of age worn hands that she knew had to belong to the illustrator. There was a strange sense of satisfaction and relief that flooded her body, though it did little to dull the pain. As her vision tilted back up away from the book she could see the bright crimson flames spilling out of the top of the urn in the strange statue’s hands. The man who had last held the book in hands…had burned it.  
    “What are you doing? Now is not the time to admire the art work. We are running-” Vergil snapped, the sound of his foot tapping on the floor pulling her out of her searing vision.  
    “Shut your mouth,” she replied quickly, ripping her hand away form the urn to try and shake off some of the pain. “You wanted me to find this stupid book, right?”  
    Turning her head slightly, she reached out for the urn and pulled herself up closer to its lip despite the residual tingling of her muscles. She could see him watching her intently out of the corner of her vision as she reached one hand down into the urn and pulled out a fistful of the black ash that was left in the bottom. There was no doubt that he wouldn’t be happy to find the book that he had been searching for so fiercely was nothing more than a pile of ash, but she had done what he had asked. She located the book, he had never specified that it be in tact when she found it.  
    “Well…here is your precious book, Vergil,” she sighed, dropping the handful of ash onto the floor at his feet, watching his permanent frown deepen. No, he was _not_ happy…

* * *

 

    There was snow and ice everywhere. The chill really didn’t bother him, but he knew that Evie had to be suffering, assuming she was still alive. Of course, that train of thought lead to a rather irritated outburst from his demon half. The idea of their mate being deceased was not something it would tolerate. Not that there would be anything he could do to bring her back…  
    The castle itself was exactly what Dante had imagined, including all of the decaying stone. Gothic architecture and sharp lines. Large ornate wooden doors preserved under sheets of ice. It was so Vergil that he found himself scoffing at it. His _dear_ brother with the heart of ice. Even if Dante hadn’t tracked them into the mountain fortress, he would have know just by looking at the place that Vergil was inside waiting for him.  
    Then there was the swarm of demons that were standing in his way. Or rather, trying to stand in his way. Even without his ticked off demon half, he could easily cut his way through the useless beings that were slowly surrounding him. Long ice coated bodies and sharp claws itching to tear into him. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry he might have stopped long enough to say something cocky before he tore apart the rabble. But he hardly even broke his stride as he marched toward the castle doors, drawing Rebellion from his back in one fluid motion.  
    He had expected them to swarm him the moment he drew his blade, but he was still strolling toward the doors undisturbed. The demons kept close, however, making a loose circular formation that moved with him at it’s center toward the castle. When the demons closest to the building ran out of snow, they didn’t miss a beat digging their claws into the already decaying stone and scaled the formation itself. It was then that Dante paused, his demon hissing at him impatiently. It was eager to have it’s property back, angry that it could smell her but not see her.  
    The fact that her scent kept wafting past him on the icy wind was reassuring. She was alive in there somewhere, making him anxious to find her and get it over with. But just waltzing into a possibly narrow corridor with all of the demons following him would be more trouble than it was worth. While he wasn’t particularly worried about the demons themselves, he knew he was going to need every ounce of his strength to get Evie away from Vergil safely. Even if it meant taking a little extra time getting to her.  
    Once he had stopped his advance on the castle, he could see the demons starting to shift in the snow nervously. They knew the layout of the castle far better than he did, which meant they weren’t comfortable with where he had stopped. With his long blade, the open area would work in his favor while their claws would require them to move in closer for any kind of offensive action. And if they refused to come closer, he always had his trusty guns. He really didn’t care either way, he just wanted to move on.  
    “What’sa matter? Not gettin’ cold feet now are ya?” he taunted, holding up his free hand to wave them forward.  
    Part of him hadn’t expected the taunt to actually work, but several of the demons charged him from every angle they could maneuver to try and take him down. A shower of ice and snow rained down on him as they began their assault and Dante found himself grinning at the familiar euphoria of it all. Even though he was in a hurry, he couldn’t turn down a fight. Especially knowing that he was going to quite literally demolish them. Standing perfectly still, he waited until the last possible second to shift the weight of Rebellion in his hand, swinging the massive blade over his head, colliding with midsections of the demons as he easily cleaved each one in half just inches from his head.  
    The remainder of the demons refused to attack him carelessly, watching with pale white eyes as their companions fell to the ground in shambles. Dante quickly stepped over the crumbling remains, strapping Rebellion onto his back again to grab his guns. Once the demons realized that he was going to get to them one way or another, they didn’t hesitate to charge him, running headlong into a barrage of bullets courtesy of his twin pistols. Several of the shots bounced off of their ice clad bodies, digging into the surrounding snow and building while the other shots barely cracked their ice-like armor.  
    “You guys are just a pain in the ass, aren’t ya?” he scoffed, readjusting his aim ever so slightly.  
    The second round of shots that he fired off nailed the demon nearest to him in the forehead, the thin layer of ice covering it’s spiky head shattering easily enough to put the thing down in three shots. Smirking to himself, Dante continued his trail of death right up to the wooden doors, whistling to himself cheerfully as the last demon fell to a lifeless heap behind him. Twirling his guns quickly around his fingers, he slipped them back into their holsters, pulling the doors open nonchalantly. It was honesty a little disappointing to say the least that Vergil had such weak roadblocks set up in his way. He had expected more from his older brother. Maybe even to meet him head on the moment he had arrived, but this was just plain sad. Whatever he had needed Evie for had to be pretty important if he didn’t even care to take the time to prepare a decent fight for him.  
    The only thing inside the crumbling fortress to greet him was yet more ice and the sound of his footsteps echoing down the vacant corridors. Evie’s scent was faint inside the building without the hard winds to keep stirring it up. But if he knew anything about his brother, he was probably at the highest point possible within the castle, brooding away on his latest plan to become more powerful. How Evie fit into all of that still had him confused as hell, but he was pretty sure it was lame attempt on Vergil’s part to piss him off. And regrettably, it had worked. Thanks to his overly possessive demon half, Dante was sure if blood pressure was something he had to worry about, his would be through the _roof_.  
    Cutting through a rather large frozen courtyard, Dante followed the smell of burning wood mixed lightly with Evie and Vergil’s scent. He swore if he found Vergil burning her alive he was going to rip out his damn spine. But all he found was a vacated office with an abandoned fire still burning. At the very least the asshole had been courteous enough to light a fire for her. That or he had lit it for himself and left her someplace else within the castle. Without even bothering to step inside he continued his path down the frigid hallways toward the first set of stairs that he could find. It was a little like walking through a maze in the dark, wandering down hallway after hallway trying to locate the exit. It wasn’t until he passed by a rather bland looking door that he noticed a small amount of snow fluttering out from under it that he stopped roaming around blindly and pulled the door open with a rough jerk.  
    Faced with another set of stairs, he was hopeful that it lead to a roof of some sort, the snow that was gently wafting down the steps was a good indicator that it at least connected to the outside in someway. He found himself chewing on the inside of his lip as he slowly scaled the stone steps, the snow slowly piling up the farther up he climbed. As the harsh winds from outside blew more snow into the stairwell he was bombarded with Evie’s sent again, sending his demon into a fit of hysterics and his slow pace quickly shifted to him taking the steps three at a time. Once he reached the top step he skidded out onto the slick ice covered balcony that overlooked the back of the castle that wasn’t embedded in the side of the mountain.  
    And there, at the very opposite side of the balcony stood Vergil and Evie, both clad in blue fabrics that made his stomach churn. She was standing next to his brother with her back facing him, completely unaware of his arrival until Vergil slowly turned his head to acknowledge his younger brother’s presence.  
    “It didn’t take you as long as I had anticipated for you to find us. I have to say, Dante, I am slightly surprised,” Vergil sighed, his voice so low that it would have been easy to miss…if it weren’t for Dante’s heightened hearing.  
    “What can I say? I was a little hurt that you failed to invite you own brother to your little palace party. Really Verge, would it kill you to pick up a phone once in a while?” Dante chuckled, amazed that he was able to even force the mocking sound out of his throat as he watched Evie intently.  
    Her head whipped around so quickly to look at him that he found himself a little relieved that she was just as anxious to see him as he was to see her alive and well. The instant that her eyes locked with his she tried to step away from Vergil, her body trembling from the cold, only to be stopped by Vergil extending his arm out in front of her to halt her escape. Dante watched warily as Vergil held his arm out in front of her, gripping his precious Katana. With her so close he couldn’t just start his onslaught without possibly hurting her in the process. It was unlike Vergil to use a human as a shield, but from where Dante was standing that was exactly what it looked like.  
    “We had a great deal of preparation to attend to. You understand how these things go. But as it turns out, my plans have been set back slightly. I needed your _mate_ to locate something for me and unfortunately, the item I was searching for has been destroyed,” Vergil rambled, turning slowly to face Dante, dropping his arm back to his side.  
    “Tough luck. Could’ve just asked her, y’know. Why go through all the trouble to steal her? Or did ya just wanna piss me off?” he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.  
    “Steal? I have no need to steal things that simply…come to me of their own free will. She left you, dear brother. Quite easily.”  
    “Dante, that’s not-” Evie gasped, clamping her mouth shut when Vergil’s hand flew up in front of her face to silence her.  
    “So the fact that you were lurking around in her dreams, stabbing her, didn’t have anything to do with it? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were acting like a common stalker! That the only way you can get girls, bro? Kinda sad…”  
    Vergil smiled over at him softly, shaking his head at the statement. Dante could see the subtle shift in his posture, squaring his shoulders as he prepared whatever attack he was about to make. It was always the same with them. Sibling rivalry escalating to the point of near death for whoever the loser was. Dante, sadly, usually being the one to take the fall. But not this time, not with Evie at stake. He didn’t care what it took, he refused to lose to his brother yet again.  
    “I think we’ve had enough of the pleasantries. Tell me, how do you see this fight ending?” Vergil scoffed, smirking over at him.  
    Dante shrugged his shoulders, instantly opening his mouth to make a witty reply when Vergil suddenly turned his head to look at Evie. She shifted her eyes nervously between the two and for a moment, Dante was honestly confused as to what the hell was going on. He assumed that Vergil’s question had been directed at him, but it was now obvious by the expectant glare he was giving Evie that he was awaiting _her_ answer. Her hazel eyes shot back across the roof to his, pleading with him silently to take her away from the situation. He didn’t quite know how to tell her that everything was going to be alright. In that split second…Dante was unsure.  
    “I…don’t know,” she muttered quietly, dropping her eyes to the roof in shame.


	18. In Your Dreams

    She knew what it must have looked like to him. How he must have felt, seeing her standing there with his brother, wearing the clothes he had picked out for her. _Betrayed_. She felt like she had betrayed Dante in the worst possible way and even though she tried to tell herself that she hadn’t done it to hurt him, it didn’t make the situation any better. Making a blind decision to try and keep their relationship safe had backfired right in her face. And now she was caught between two brothers, both fighting over _her_. Vergil for her strange gift, Dante for their bond.  
    “I think we’ve had enough of the pleasantries. Tell me, how do you see this fight ending?” Vergil scoffed, still staring at Dante across the roof.  
    Before Dante could even give him an answer, Vergil turned to glare at her and she realized that the question had been directed at her. Glancing between the two of them she tried to imagine how the fight could have possibly ended, but there was nothing but an overwhelming blackness that she just couldn’t get past. Knowing that her answer was just going to anger Vergil, she let her eyes fall to the ice covered roof to avoid seeing his reaction.  
    “I…don’t know,” she muttered.  
    She could hear Vergil click his tongue in disapproval, holding his right hand out in front of her.  
    “Your mate has an interesting gift, Dante. When she puts her mind to it, she can see certain events in astounding detail. All it takes is the proper catalyst and a little _motivation_ ,” Vergil sighed, shoving his hand closer to her face. “Now, tell me how it ends.”  
    Knowing that he was just going to force her one way or another, Evie took a deep breath and reached out to grab his hand. The pain she had been anticipating was brief. Flashes of blue and red clothing shooting across her vision so quickly that she couldn’t make out what was happening. And then, blackness. An empty feeling of nothingness and cold she just couldn’t shake. Silence that was somehow louder than words.  
    Ripping her hand back away from Vergil’s, she took a small step away from him, shaking her head. She had no clue what it was suppose to mean, but all she could really gather from the vision was the overwhelming need to tell Dante goodbye. To touch him at least once before the fight started. There was no way she could even let herself imagine _why_ the feeling was so strong, only that she knew she would regret it if she didn’t try.  
    “I don’t know, I can’t see what happens. But…” her voice trialed off, eyes flickering over to Dante in pure fear of the unknown.  
    “But what?” Vergil hissed next to her.  
    “Can I please say goodbye?”  
    Very slowly, a cruel smile formed on Vergil’s lips. He had to assume that her want to say goodbye meant that he was going to emerge the victor. It made her stomach twist in knots just thinking about it, but it was hard to tell herself that he was wrong.  
    “Be my guest,” Vergil murmured in a very strange turn of events, waving his hand for her to go ahead.  
    She had half expected him to tell her no, but he seemed so lost in gloating over his preconceived victory that allowing her one request was nothing to him. Carefully, Evie shuffled forward on the slick ice, closing the distance between her and Dante as quickly as possible. He was wearing a permanent frown on his face that she didn’t quite care for, but she couldn’t blame him. If he had left _her_ for her nonexistent twin sister, she would have been _pissed_. At the very least, his glare was directed past her at Vergil and it made her feel less like a traitor.  
    As soon as she was within his reach his arms shot out, wrapping around her to hug her against his chest. There was a strange sense of bliss just being back in his grasp that she contributed to their strange bond. His hands trembled as he clung to her and she knew it couldn’t have been from the cold. He was just as relieved as she was to be together again. Just touching him made everything else fade away into a distant hum of irritation.  
    “Dante, I’m so sorry. He tricked me,” she sobbed, clinging to his leather jacket for dear life.  
    “Don’t worry about it, Eve’s. This is all just a game to him. S’not your fault…” Dante chuckled, his lips pressing against her forehead tenderly.  
    Closing her eyes tightly, she tired to focus on the fight that she knew was about to occur. She was positive that her fear of Vergil had hindered her ability to make sense of what she was seeing, but her contact with Dante hadn’t helped very much either. All she could make out were quick bursts of their exchange, watching from the farthest vantage point away from them as she could to avoid getting caught up in between them. And just as before, the same cloying blackness took over everything. Slowly, she leaned back away from him, eyes searching his for some kind of silent answer to the confusion clouding her brain. But all she could see was his blatant determination to get the battle with his brother over and done with.  
    “Goodbye, Dante,” she whispered under her breath, reaching up slowly to brush her hand over his cheek.  
    Amazingly, he just cracked a smile, his blue eyes practically twinkling with humor as he eased her away from him to clear the area.  
    “Don’t be so dramatic. This is nothing for us. Just brothers fighting over the same toy in the sandbox. Sit back and enjoy what little bit of the show you can see…” he scoffed, watching her carefully inch to the side of the balcony.  
    The crumbling pillars that bordered the balcony seemed like the perfect place to stand out of dodge. Turning to face the twins, she found herself looking at the exact same image she’d had of their pointless battle. Their sibling rivalry was the worst case she had ever seen and she was sure it had something to do with their demonic blood. Normally, guys fighting over her would have been romantic, but this just scared the hell out of her. In her mind, she had already lost Dante once, there would be no way she could live through losing him again.  
    The first move was made by Dante. It was slow enough that she could actually track his movements, but still cocky enough to tell that he was serious. Drawing the massive blade form his back he turned all of his attention to Vergil and vanished. Evie found herself blinking in shock for a moment before her eyes shot to where Vergil was standing, still stoic and bored looking as always. Just as she thought she was going to actually see something happen between them, Vergil sidestepped out of the path of Dante’s blade which dug into the balcony and was gone.  
    It didn’t take long for her to get frustrated with her inability to tell what the hell was going on. Whether or not Dante was winning or if he had been wounded. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and forced herself back into the vision despite the pain. It was her mind, she could force it to do whatever she wanted. Or die trying. It couldn’t have been _that_ hard after everything else that she had made it through. The event was already there, she just needed to slow it down.  
  
 _Dante pulled the heavy blade from his back and shifted his feet on the slick ice as if to test what kind of traction he had to reach his brother. Each long stride that he took hardly made a noise, but she knew that Vergil probably heard his very heart beating in his chest. Yet still he stood perfectly still, watching Dante with a blank expression on his face as he brought the massive sword down over his head and simply stepped aside. It was easy to see that Vergil was faster, while Dante lingered more on the side of raw power. The way he maneuvered the heavy blade as if it were nothing more than a feather was impressive to say the least. But as the tip of the blade dug into the balcony, Vergil was slowly drawing his blade. Smaller yes, but somehow it seemed far more deadly in his hands._  
 _The sound of the sharp blade sliding free from it’s sheath sent chills down her spine as Vergil easily shifted to the offensive. Even though Dante tugged his blade free from the stone quickly, Vergil was right there on him, his thin blade colliding with Dante’s in a loud clash of metal. The force each of them were exerting was enough to cause the weapons to recoil away from one another, snow and ice flying away from them across the balcony, creating their own little mini blizzard. Just by looking at them you would imagine that Dante could easily overpower his older brother, but neither one of them seemed to be forcing the other one back. They might as well have been infants trying to push down a brick house with their bare hands._  
 _With neither one of them willing to back down from the other, they both took a calculated step back, pulling their swords with them just to attempt another strike at vital areas of their opponents body. Again and again, their blades met with a shrill ring, movements almost like a deadly tango. For every one step one of them took, the other matched it flawlessly. It was like she was watching Dante fighting his very shadow, which only served to irritate her farther. Neither one of them seemed like they were going to win. The fight would end in a draw and they would be right back to where they had started._  
 _They seemed to realize their fight would end in a stalemate, brains no doubt ten steps ahead of hers, and Dante drew back away from his brother to grab on of his guns. As much as she sincerely wanted to believe that it would be enough to keep Dante on top of the fight, it was easy to see that Vergil wasn’t the least bit phased by the new weapon introduction. While Dante’s aim with the black pistol was spot on, most of the bullets seemed to fly right past Vergil’s body while a few collided with his blade and ricocheted off into the unknown. She could tell that Dante was using the gun to put distance between the two of them, not particularly caring that none of his shots were landing where he had aimed them. When he was certain that there was enough space between them to recalculate his plan of attack, he holstered the gun, shifting his feet on the ice in preparation for the next attack. But Vergil was faster and in that very instant she knew that something terrible was about to happen._  
 _Vergil tucked his blade quickly back into it’s sheath, shifting his position from a mildly bored stance to a low crouch. Dante had to see the feral look in his brother’s eyes as he moved, but he didn’t seem to be able to correct himself on the ice soon enough before Vergil shot forward, drawing his blade at the very last second in an attempt to literally cut his younger brother in half. Dante abandoned his need for a solid footing in a last ditch effort to block the attack with his own sword. Time seemed to freeze before her eyes as the two blades collided. Dante and Vergil were perfectly still for a split second before the only thing she could see was the red of Dante’s leather jacket moving toward her face._ Rapidly _._  
      
    She was sure that if it had been anyone other than Vergil, the attack wouldn’t have been powerful enough to knock Dante off of his feet so forcefully. But there he was, sailing through the air…right into her. She didn’t even have to time to gasp before all she could register was mind numbing pain as Dante slammed into her like a ton of bricks and she was suddenly flying. The world moved past her so quickly that she wasn’t even sure what she was looking at anymore. Everything blended into a field of white and it was in that instant that she realized why she couldn’t predict the end of their battle. Why the only thing that she could see was a curtain of darkness. The distant sound of Dante shouting her name was the last thing she could hear before there was a sudden crack of bones against frozen stone…and then, blackness.

* * *

 

    By the time he realized what had happened he knew it was already too late. His boots skidded on the unforgiving ice as his brother’s attack forced him off balance. As soon as his body collided with hers, all he could hear was a small surprised yelp as he fought to dig Rebellion’s tip into the balcony to stop himself long enough to turn around and grab her. Metal dug into the stone for a short distance before he skidded to a shaky halt, his upper body turning without a seconds hesitation to grab a hold of her hand as she flew off of her feet into the frosty air. And the moment that he thought he might actually save her from an untimely death, there was a piercing pain that shot through his gut, blood spraying out over the ice. He watched in horror as Evie’s shocked face quickly vanished from his vision, sailing right over the edge of the balcony to the ground below.  
    “Evie!” he shouted, coughing as his own blood flooded his lungs.  
    He felt like a child again, watching as Evie nearly tumbled off of her own roof because Vergil was far too jealous of her to allow her to live. The older twin had knocked her feet out from under her, praying she would end up broken on the ground below. But it had been Dante that flew over the edge that time and unlike him, he knew that Evie would not survive the fall. Everything around him came to an abrupt stop and he fell to his knees, still gripping Rebellion’s handle to keep himself upright with his brother’s blade still wedged in his stomach.  
    Very slowly, he worked his eyes up to stare at Vergil’s icy expression. While he didn’t look particularly happy about the sudden turn of events, Dante knew that he wouldn’t lose sleep over the fact that another weak human had died. He wanted to tell himself that if he had just left Evie alone, she would have been fine. That she had survived all of those years surrounded by demons…until he showed up to turn everything upside down. And now, as always, someone’s life was ended long before it was due because of him.  
    “You see Dante, this is why you shouldn’t get so attached to humans. They’re pitifully fragile things…” Vergil sighed, ripping his blade from Dante’s stomach harshly.  
    The fight was over, the object of their battle now broken and lifeless, there was no reason to continue the exchange. But Dante wasn’t through with him yet. He refused to accept the defeat. The _reality_. Pushing himself back up onto his feet, he ignored the blistering pain in his gut that was slowly healing itself over, lifting Rebellion into both hands as he lunged at his older brother. Anger flooded his vision, iris’s tinted red as he buried the massive blade into the identical body before him in a blind rage. Vergil’s eye’s widened ever so slightly at the sudden turn of events, staring up at Dante as he was skewered onto the balcony, a small smirk forming on his lips.  
    “You will never learn…” he sighed halfheartedly, shaking his head slowly.  
    “Why her? Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?” Dante shouted, pushing the blade farther through his brothers chest.  
    “She had…something I needed.”  
    Growling, Dante ripped the blade out of the stone, watching with a small amount of satisfaction as Vergil winced in pain when his body fell back to the ice in a puddle of his own blood. As angry as he was, there was nothing that he could do. Killing Vergil wouldn’t bring her back. Nothing would. Fighting the very strong urge from his demon side to continuously bury his sword into the healing body below him, Dante slowly shuffled back toward the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom floor of the sprawling castle, his wound had already healed enough to only cause a dull ache as he marched forward to find her body.  
    The snow outside was falling in thick heavy clumps. His feet and blade dragged through several layers as he forced himself closer to the shred of blue fabric that was waving wildly on top of the snow. She had landed in what looked like nothing more than a solid expanse of snow, but he kept stumbling on several jagged rocks buried beneath the surface. Laying face up, her eyes were still open, lifelessly staring up into the gray sky. Hooking Rebellion onto his back slowly, he kneeled down next to her, arms scooping up under her body to cradle her against his chest. The only thought running through his mind was that he finally understood what Evie must have felt the day she found his body, lifeless and cold…  
    “I’m so sorry, Evie…”

* * *

 

    Laying with his face pressed into the cushions he tried to force the memory out of his brain, but it refused to leave. Lingering with a sickening clarity that made his heart throb. He wasn’t even sure how many years it had been since he allowed himself to even remember what her face looked like, let alone _dream_ about her. Despite how annoying the persistent knocking on his office door was, he was slightly thankful that it had pulled him out of the nightmarish memory.  
    “Go away… Closed,” he groaned into the couch.  
    He knew that there was no chance in hell that the person was just going to abandon their interruption of his self proclaimed rest day, but still he lay there on the couch, trying to work past the pain in the memory to recall the good in their short time together. The way she would get so nervous whenever he made the smallest sexual remark and how she slowly had started to join in on the teasing. And then the knocking started again. Dante sat up quickly, glaring over at the doors in pure hate.  
    “I said we’re closed! Go away!”  
    Climbing up off of the couch he made his way over to his desk slowly, flopping down in his chair like a lifeless corpse. He kept his eyes plastered on the doors, waiting for them to burst open at any given moment. It wasn’t until he heard heavy footsteps moving away from the door that he was satisfied enough to relax, shifting ever so slightly so that he was now staring at the posters on the wall above his juke box. If Evie could see him now, what would she say?  
    The footsteps returned with a vengeance, their owner sprinting at the office doors, slamming into them with enough force to break the locks without actually breaking them off of the hinges. There in the doorway of Devil May Cry stood his new partner, the kid just as cocky and brooding as always. As irritated as he had been before the kid showed up, he couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the angry look on his young face.  
    “What the fuck are you doing, old man? We got work to do! Quit wallowing in self pity and get off your ass…” Nero spat, jabbing a clawed finger in his direction.  
    “Yeah, yeah…I heard you the first million times you knocked, kid,” he chuckled, pushing himself reluctantly up out of his chair.  
    There was no time to dwell on the past when there were enough problems to focus on in the present. She would be there waiting for him when he returned, even if it was only in his dreams…


End file.
